#calm the fuck down you mormon fuck

[innocentarteryarchive]

the shadow series sequels is so unhinged compared to ender's game/shadow,, and i'm not even talking about the wildly problematic portrayals of international diplomacy it's the fact that a 16 year old boy is convinced to have children because it's the One True Way to achieve happiness and they go about it with literal eugenics. and the mother of the children is like 20.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: While shooting a movie with the infamous Wanda Maximoff, you start to fall for her. The lines between reality and acting blur together as you enter into a publicity stunt relationship, and you try to save your heart from breaking.

content warnings: angst, fake relationship, but a happy ending! Also TW for religious trauma, specifically homophobia within the Mormon church.

word count: 6.8k+

masterlist

Original Request

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Reality

The first time you lay eyes on Wanda Maximoff, you knew your life would never be the same. Her green eyes pierced through the chaotic atmosphere of the audition room, a group of people you assumed were her team surrounding her as she walked into the larger room off to the side, where the actual auditions were being held. 

You watched her go until her silky auburn hair faded from view, the door shutting firmly behind her, and sucked in a large breath. It felt like the air was simultaneously lighter without her heady presence, and thicker at her absence. You made up your mind then and there to try your very best at this audition. 

Deep down, you knew that the privilege of knowing Wanda Maximoff would be the insurmountable victory of your life, and you steeled yourself. 

“Damn,” Someone said, and you frowned as the room erupted in nervous laughter. Looking around, some people seemed starstruck, while others looked absolutely terrified. You understood why, nobody had told you that one of the most famous actresses in the country would be showing up at the final round of auditions today, but you could understand the reasons behind their secrecy. 

Mentally running over the lines you knew you’d forget the second you were in the presence of the most exquisite woman you’d ever seen, you manually slowed your heartbeat, breathing in slowly while you calmed your nerves. 

You couldn’t fuck this up. 

Someone called your name, and you stood, the movement feeling almost robotic. Blinking a few times, and shaking off the stubborn nerves that raced through your already sleep-deprived body, you smiled slightly at the people around you. They all offered small, encouraging smiles, but you could see the hunger behind their eyes. The need to succeed, to be better than everyone else in the room. The need to win. 

Shivering again, you reminded yourself that although it was a competition, it didn’t matter if you didn’t get the role. As long as you tried your best, that was enough. Then you remembered the woman waiting on the other side of the door, and a fierce wave of something rushed through you. 

Walking into the room, you kept your back straight, hoping to at least act like you were confident. That crumbled the moment you locked eyes with Wanda, the green of her irises imprinting themselves into your mind as you formed an awkward smile. 

“Alright,” A mousy-looking man clapped his hands, the illustrious eyes that had sought yours now focused solely on him. You never wanted to kill a man as desperately as you did now. Instead, you turned your head, shaking the cobwebs of gay panic from your mind as you forced yourself to focus. 

“We’re going to start with page twelve, scene two. A seat has been provided,” The man gestured towards the front of the room, and you glanced over. A single booth, about six feet long, was sitting innocently in a spotlight. It reminded you of your childhood, images of hot sticky Sundays clawing their way to the surface as you swallowed harshly. 

Missing the glance Wanda sent your way, her brows furrowing slightly at the distant look in your eyes, you jerkily made your way toward the seat. 

The words of a forgotten Sunday worship wormed their way towards your ears, murmuring things like ‘sinner’, ‘abomination’, and ‘unworthy’. The words suffocated you, visions of a church meeting hall flashing before you as you sat down on the familiar seat. 

Your fingers grazed the fabric, and you realized that they must have acquired an actual seat from some random Mormon church, and you fought the bile that rose. 

“I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself,” A soft voice filtered through your thoughts, clearing your mind instantly. 

Looking up, your face flushing, you could only stare silently as Wanda sat beside you. Embarrassment welled up, knowing that the woman had probably witnessed you get lost in the past, but she gave no indication that she’d seen anything, holding out her hand. 

“I’m Wanda,” She said, a genuine smile brightening her face. Her eyes searched yours, seemingly imploring you to take her hand, and you did. 

You were happy that you didn’t stutter as you gave her your name, surprised when Wanda repeated it back to you, the syllables forming into something beautiful when she spoke. 

“Be honest,” She leaned in, eyes sparkling with your hand still firmly grasped in hers. “How nervous are you?”

The faint scent of vanilla encircled you, a haze threatening to pull your focus away, but you remained steadfast. Not wanting to miss a single moment you had with the captivating enigma that was Wanda Maximoff. 

“I accidentally bought myself two coffees this morning,” You confided, smiling slightly at Wanda’s confused expression. “I had forgotten I’d ordered the first one, so I waited in line again to order my latte, only to realize halfway through the second cup that I’d been so anxious I practically blacked out while ordering the first time around.” 

Whatever reaction you’d been expecting, the tinkling laughter that erupted from the woman seated mere inches beside you was better than anything you could’ve imagined. Her eyes crinkled, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, and you fought to urge to lower it, wanting to see her full face while she was in the throes of happiness. 

“Alright ladies,” A voice rang out, shocking you out of the comfortable lull you’d found yourself in. “Are we ready to begin?”

The mousy man was now seated at a long table, three people seated on either side of him, their eyes locked on you and Wanda. You swallowed harshly, suddenly remembering that this was an audition, and you reluctantly removed your hand from Wanda’s. 

Glancing over, Wanda nodded, her eyes still locked on yours. They were warm, as if to say, ‘Don’t rush, take your time,’ and you smiled. 

You could totally do this.

—

“When did you know?” Wanda’s voice is frail, and you bite your lip. 

“Know what?”

“That you’re…” She trailed off, her eyes distant, a lost look in them. They met yours, green eyes pleading with you to say the words she couldn’t.

“That I’m gay?” You make sure to make your tone extra sarcastic, sending a quick smile her way, and nudging your shoulder gently against hers. You leave it there, finding comfort in the warmth that shoots through your body at the minimal contact. 

She lets out a breath of air, inhaling shakily as she quickly glances away from you. “Yes… that.”

“It’s not a dirty word, you know,” You say, tilting your head slightly, hoping to catch her eye. She refuses, fingers picking at the seat between you as her eyes remain locked somewhere in the distance. 

Fighting the urge to sigh, you let your own eyes glaze over, a faraway look appearing in them as you breathe in deeply. It’s a weary sound, and you close your eyes briefly as you exhale, preparing your answer. 

“I think I’ve always known,” You begin, resting a hand on the seat, your pinky centimeters from hers. Green eyes lock onto it, her breaths shortening further, her silence stretching on. 

“The first time I realized that I was…” You search for the word, shaking your head slightly, “Different,” The word tastes like ash in your mouth, and you can’t help the slight wobble in your voice. 

Clearing your throat, you continue, “I was in second grade, and for some reason, I really wanted the approval of my new teacher,” You glance awkwardly over towards Wanda, smirking, “I’ve always liked older women.”

Wanda’s fingers inch closer to yours, the tension palpable. You look away, needing to get the next words out, but knowing you wouldn’t be able to if you were staring into those all-knowing green eyes of hers. 

“I went home that night, and I prayed,” The words get stuck in your throat, and you realize with rising horror that actual tears are making their way into your eyes. You push onwards, Wanda’s hand inching closer to yours. 

“I prayed that I would wake up the next morning and be able to like boys the same way that I liked girls. I prayed and asked God why he would do this to me, why he would make me like this if he hated it so much.” Your voice breaks, a tear escaping down your cheek. “And it didn’t work.”

At those words, the dam finally breaks, and your shoulders heave with silent sobs as Wanda’s hand finally encircles your own. You can feel her other hand hesitantly rising, moving towards your shoulder before stopping, unsure if she should touch you or not. 

Eventually, after a pathetic-sounding sniffle escapes you, her other hand wraps around your shoulders, bringing you in. You bury your head into her shoulder, fingers gripping tightly onto the back of her shirt as the lines between acting and reality blur together into one giant, jumbled mess. 

“And, scene!” A voice calls out, and you force the tears back, manually slowing your breathing to gain some semblance of control over yourself. You tell yourself that you’re imagining the hesitant way that Wanda pulls away from you and blink in surprise when her hand remains on your back, gently rubbing soothing circles as you breathe deeply. 

“That was…” The man can’t seem to get the words out, his eyes shining. “Phenomenal.” 

His voice is breathy, filled with awe, and you can’t help the surprised look that takes over your face. Really, all it took was a minor mental breakdown and your acting was phenomenal? You should try that more often. 

The rest of the members at the table seem to agree, and the mousy-looking man makes his way toward you and Wanda, a wide smile on his face. 

“Congratulations!” He all but exclaims, and you feel disconnected from your body as he continues, “You’re hired!”

The man goes on to explain that Wanda will be playing the other main character, the Bishop’s wife, while you play the lead role in the movie. You know the character well, you’ve played her both in real life and now in auditions, but you can’t quite believe the words that are spewing rapidly from the man’s mouth. 

You play a 19-year-old girl, living with her elderly Grandmother after her parents had kicked her out for coming out as a lesbian. Your character only attends church with her resolutely Mormon Grandmother because she is scared to lose the only person in her life who will still give her a home. The man explains that your character falls in love with the new Bishop’s young wife, having just moved from Utah to your state, as Wanda’s character navigates her new realization of her sexuality while also falling in love with your character. 

It’s a beautiful story, one you’d read over and over again before deciding to audition. The themes of religious trauma, grief, and romance all swirled into one complicated story, but one detail, in particular, stood out in your disconnected brain. 

Fuck. 

Wanda’s character is the romantic interest of your character. 

What are you supposed to do now?

—

The director, a brunette woman with a seemingly permanent calming aura, had instructed you and Wanda to get to know each other better during the two months before shooting. She’d said something about how actors who were friends in real life had better chemistry on screen, but you’d blacked out after the word ‘chemistry’ had fallen from her lips. 

Wanda had laughed, seeing the slight flush appear on your face, her hands gentle as she guided you towards her car, “Seeing as we’ll be getting to know each other pretty well for the next few months, why don’t we start with a tour of my home?”

She’d persuaded you further with the promise of a home-cooked meal, and you simply couldn’t refuse. You were a recent college graduate, living in a shitty studio apartment you could barely afford, surviving off of the bare essentials. A tour of an actual house with an actual meal sounded like a pretty sweet deal to you. 

Plus, Wanda would be there, so everything would be perfect. 

The next two months were wonderful, the text messages between you two were constant and the weekends reserved solely for getting to know each other better. You quickly learned that Wanda absolutely loved cooking, but she adored gardening. 

The two of you had started doing puzzles together, one particularly colorful one catching your eye as you went shopping with Wanda, and she’d insisted on buying it for you. So, it became a tradition. Every Saturday, excluding the ones when Wanda had prior plans seeing as she was a famous actress with events to attend, the two of you would share a bottle or two of wine and assemble a puzzle while conversation flowed like water between you. 

The only thing you dreaded during these two months was Sundays. The director had asked you two to attend a Mormon church, stating it as research for the upcoming movie. You didn’t have the heart to explain why the mere thought of stepping foot inside a church again sent uncomfortable, conflicting tendrils of grief and self-loathing crawling up your spine, so you simply agreed. 

Wanda knew. She somehow always knew when something was wrong. She’d helped you pick out an outfit, a modest dress with comfortable shoes, and in return, you’d helped her find a dress in her massive closet that actually fit the impossible Mormon standards. 

You were silent during the car ride to the church, your eyes locked on the landscape moving quickly outside your window. Wanda didn’t have to ask if you were alright, she saw the distant look in your eyes and knew that you were trapped in memories, unable to escape. 

A soft hand enveloped yours, fingers tight around your hands as you felt vanilla pierce the heavy weight of the scenes playing behind your eyes. Your brain cleared briefly, overwhelming gratitude welling up inside you at the gentle show of support, and your fingers squeezed back. 

After that, you felt more present. Even when you walked through the doors, a false smile glued to your lips as you led the way towards a seat covered in that same scratchy fabric from the audition room, you didn’t sink beneath the waves of past memories threatening to drown you. 

The fabric didn’t seem quite as scratchy now with Wanda beside you, her pinky mere inches from yours. You remembered the audition room, the memory overlapping with the past ones that strained to reach the surface of your thoughts. The new memory suffocated the old, your breaths coming easier while Wanda’s steady presence overcame your senses. 

Someone began speaking at the podium, your body jolting as you realized it was a prayer. Wanda’s eyes were sharp, taking in everything, assessing everything. You showed her how to fold her arms, bowing your head slightly. The last thing you wanted was to stand out. 

If you stood out from the rest, you would never be fully accepted. You couldn’t go through that again. 

Wanda seemed to see the desperation in your eyes and copied your movements. Her green eyes didn’t close, watching you as your eyes stared blankly at the booth in front of you. 

“Dear Heavenly Father, we thank thee…” You couldn’t hear the rest of the prayer, the familiar phrase ringing around your head until the cacophony of noise threatened to overwhelm you. 

A pinky touched yours, Wanda’s body resting fully against you as you sat side-by-side in a little booth. The man was still speaking, your ears numb to his words, your senses locked into only one person. 

Wanda. 

Her finger wrapped around yours, an awkward version of a pinky promise, an act so juvenile yet innocent and pure. This memory overlapped with your past, multiple prayers you’d heard about ‘giving strength to those who stray’, and ‘loving everyone no matter what their sins may be’, being smothered by the simple touch of a pinky. 

You longed for more. 

The rest of the meeting passed quickly, your hands interlocked in the seat between you, hidden beneath the folds of your skirts. You were numb to the words spoken at the podium, having learned to block them out a long time ago. You let yourself remember, an unexplainable grief rising within you as you remembered what it felt like to truly believe in something, before the same people you’d once felt seemingly unconditional love from, turned on you with knowing eyes and quiet whispers. 

All because you liked a girl. 

Silent tears fell, your sniffles quiet from years of practice. Wanda’s fingers tightened, her eyes warm but not overwhelming. You let the memories wash over you, reliving them and then releasing them, letting comforting waves of vanilla envelop and smother them like a warm blanket. You finally smiled, right near the end of the meeting, your eyes no longer dull.

Wanda held your hand the entire time. 

—

The rest of the cast was amazing, friendly faces surrounded you, and laughter never ending as you mingled before the first table read. There was an assortment of finger sandwiches on a table near the back of the room, and you didn’t stray far from it. 

It’s not that you were hiding, per se, but rather surveying the room while you tried to control a slight panic rising within you. Yeah, scratch that, you were totally hiding. 

“Hey,” Your eyes raise from the sandwich you’d been inspecting, meeting a familiar shade of green. You can’t help the comfortable smile that erupts on your face as Wanda makes her way over to you. 

“Not a fan of mingling, I take it?”

“I just,” You gesture helplessly, noticing the lingering looks from some of the cast, probably wondering why Wanda was standing near you. “I don’t know anyone. And I feel really awkward.”

Wanda’s fingers interlock with yours, pulling your reluctant frame away from the table. “Well,” She reasons, walking towards a group of people, “Let’s introduce you then.”

—

You’re quite proud of yourself, having not stuttered over a single line of yours during the first table read. You could tell that some of your castmates were surprised that you were playing the lead character, as you weren’t a well-known name in the industry. 

The cast was stacked with A-list actors, Wanda being one of them. In all honesty, you were terrified, but Wanda’s chair was next to yours, and her pinky never strayed far from your own, so it wasn’t all that bad. 

Positioning her body until it was slightly facing yours, Wanda leaned in after the director announced a short break, the rest of the cast standing up to mingle, their voices chattering about the script. 

“You did exceptionally well.” The words were whispered in your ear, meant for you and you alone. Something warm burned in your chest, and you smiled proudly as you tilted your face toward Wanda. 

Your breath caught, her lips inches from yours. She didn’t make any moves to lean back, and you fought the urge to count her freckles as her soft breaths hit your face. 

“A glowing review,” You managed, a smirk making its way onto your face at Wanda’s smile. “I’m flattered.”

Wanda laughed, finally leaning back as she did so, and you let out a sharp exhale. One of her hands gripped your forearm as she chuckled, one hand covering her mouth as she did so. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” You said, blinking at the suddenness of your words. 

Wanda tilted her head, brows furrowing slightly. She doesn’t have to speak, her silent question stretching out in the silence between you two. 

“I just mean, you cover your face when you laugh,” You gesture towards her, ducking your head as your mouth keeps talking. “You shouldn’t, you’re beautiful when you laugh.”

The statement feels awkward coming from your lips, the compliment suddenly sounding too flirty, too personal, just too much. But then, Wanda’s smiling again, her eyes sparkling as she practically beams at you, and your words don’t feel unnatural anymore. 

“Well, I…” She doesn’t continue, her eyes searching yours as her eyes continue to sparkle at you.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Wanda Maximoff was rendered speechless,” The joke spills out, the silence threatening to turn uncomfortable as you stare at each other. You place a hand over your heart mockingly, “I’m truly honored to witness this momentous occasion.” 

Wanda laughs, and this time her hands stay away from her face, your eyes eagerly taking in her expression. You were right, she is beautiful when she laughs. 

“Alright, sweet talker,” She stands, still smiling widely at you as she pulls you from your seat. “Let's go mingle with our new friends.”

You socialize, words falling easily from your lips as you get to know the rest of your cast. Plenty of people congratulate you on landing the role, some offering encouraging words and others offering tips. You enjoy it all, auburn hair and sparkling eyes never leaving your sight for too long. 

It’s not as awkward as before, not with Wanda by your side.

—

“Your agents are geniuses,” Angela, the woman playing your on-screen grandmother jokes, relaxing against the booth. Your fingers play with the scratchy fabric, standing behind the seat with Wanda leaning next to you. 

You’ve been shooting the movie for a few weeks now, and this is one of the longer days. You’re shooting on the set of a reconstructed Mormon church, and you have to admit that the set designers did their research. The main hall is eerily similar to the one you remember growing up in. 

There’s a multitude of extras milling about, the day long and exhausting for everyone, since the scenes you're shooting take place in a packed church meeting. You’ve finally gotten a break, and Wanda has come over to talk with you, as she usually did. 

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, and Angela laughs. It's a throaty sound, and your lips turn up of their own accord as she braces herself against the seat. 

Someone shouts about the lighting, and you’re momentarily distracted while Angela wipes her eyes slightly. She waves off the young makeup artist, dabbing at the concealer beneath her eyes. 

The extras give you and Wanda a wide berth, and you’re unsure if they were instructed to do so, or if they were just intimidated by the lead actresses of the movie. Either way, you’re grateful for the space. 

“Don’t worry,” Angela says, leaning in and drawing your attention back to her. “You don’t have to play dumb with me, everyone knows that you two are dating as a publicity stunt.”

You and Wanda glance at each other briefly, shock evident on both your faces as Angela continues, “It’s a genius idea, truly. It's great for promoting the movie, and it gets people wondering if your on-screen chemistry is as good as your real-life chemistry.”

Real-life chemistry? What the fuck? 

Wanda must be thinking the same thing, because her eyes are slightly wide as she stares at you. Then, they change slightly, a calculating look in them as a multitude of makeup artists swoop in, surrounding the two of you as they prepare you for the upcoming scene. 

You catch Angela’s eye, and she pretends to zip her lips shut. Offering a wobbly smile, you walk almost robotically towards the front of the room as the director calls for places, your mind racing. Wanda brushes past you, her hand grazing your waist as she moves to sit behind the podium, where you’ll be standing for the next scene. 

Taking a deep breath, you push all thoughts of Wanda and fake relationships and chemistry out of your mind. There will be plenty of time to panic later, now, you have to focus on the next scene and try not to mess up badly. 

It’s utter chaos when they have to reset a scene with as many people as there are in the room, and you really want this day to be over with. Besides, there’s a bottle of vodka and an evening of overthinking waiting for you. 

—

Your publicist, a woman named Annie, smiles encouragingly at you while you sit in shock. 

“I mean, just think about it,” Another woman speaks, and you turn your wide eyes towards her. “It’s the perfect opportunity to sell this movie to the public, and the two of you are already good friends.”

At that, Wanda glances over at you. 

You blink. It’s slightly unfair how regal she looks, sitting elegantly in her chair in this small, suffocating room. Your brain is already slightly frazzled from a long day of shooting, and you struggle to process the request of Wanda’s publicist. 

“Let me make sure I’m understanding correctly,” Wanda interjects, sensing that you’re off-kilter at the moment. Her voice soothes you, and you remind yourself to breathe as she continues, “You want us to pretend to be in a relationship, as a publicity stunt?”

Well, when she puts it that way, it doesn’t seem so difficult. But then again, you’d agree with anything Wanda says, so maybe you’re biased. 

“Exactly,” Annie says, Wanda’s publicist nodding. “This movie is already projected to hit the box office, and with this, there will be even more demographics watching. This pretend relationship will help build anticipation for the movie, especially since the whole internet ships you two already.”

Now that was a new piece of information, and by the look on Wanda’s face, she was also hearing this for the first time.

“Do they really,” Wanda’s voice is slightly faint, her posture slumping slightly as she leans back in her chair. She seems to process, her eyes unfocusing slightly, so you ask a question of your own.

“Which demographics are we talking about, exactly?”

Annie smiles, sharing a look with Wanda’s publicist. “The younger generation for sure, since you’re already starting to trend on popular social media apps, as well as the LBGTQ+ community. They’re always looking for a new queer couple to ship.”

You try not to bristle, wanting to remind Annie that you’re a part of that community, but before you can get the words out, Wanda interjects. 

“Can we think about it?” Her words are soft, and when you glance over towards her, the green of her eyes doesn’t lock on yours like usual. Instead, they’re focused on her publicist, with a slightly firm look in them.

The woman concedes, and Wanda stands quickly. Before you’re able to get to your own feet, feeling slightly shaky as you do so, she’s already out the door.

—

After a few days of awkwardness, which you absolutely hate, you and Wanda agree that the publicity stunt is a smart move. 

It’s awkward at first, especially since you’re overthinking every interaction you have with her. You shy away from her touch, suddenly questioning if she’s touching you for the publicity stunt or because she actually wants to. 

After a couple of days of this, you’re in your trailer, watching some stupid reality show to try and get your mind off of the uncomfortable day you’d had on set when three light knocks sound at your door. 

“I know you’re in there, I can hear the TV.” Wanda’s voice sounds through the door, and you curse. It’s not that you were avoiding her… that’s a lie. You were totally avoiding her, and your acting in scenes with her had taken a hit because of it. 

“Just let me in, we need to talk,” There’s a pause, then, “Please?”

You can’t say no to that.

Turning the TV off, you make your way to the door and open it to reveal a very tired-looking Wanda. Her auburn hair seems slightly duller than usual, the sparkle in her green eyes no longer there. 

“Um,” Wanda pushes past you, sitting on your couch as you shut the door behind her. “What did you want to talk about?”

The question feels awkward, and you know that you’re avoiding the proverbial elephant in the room. Wanda gives you a look, and you sigh. 

Sitting down on the couch next to her, you leave plenty of space between your body and hers, and you try not to think about the way her pinky twitches at the distance. 

“Why are you avoiding me?” Wanda asks, and you blink. You hadn’t expected her to be so straightforward, but it seemed that she had no more patience for hesitancy. 

“I’m just,” You trail off, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure where reality ends and this fake relationship begins. And I’m not sure about what’s real and what’s not.”

Wanda doesn’t say anything for a long while, but the silence doesn’t feel awkward anymore. Instead, it feels heavy and filled with a multitude of unspoken feelings that you wish you had the bravery to share.

“So this,” Wanda reaches out her hand slowly, as if not to spook you. It stops, halfway between your body and hers, resting innocently on your couch. Her pinky stretches out further, and you let your hand slide along the cushion until your pinkies interlock. 

You don’t imagine the relieved sigh that escapes Wanda’s lips.

“You’re not sure if this is real or not?” The question rings around your head, and you shake your head because no, you can’t tell.

“Let me tell you how I see it,” Wanda says, her voice soft. You look up, meeting those pretty green eyes for the first time all day. She smiles, and they crinkle at the edges. You’ve missed seeing that. 

“When we’re alone, or on set, everything is real,” Her voice is firm, laced with honesty. “When we’re in public, it’s still real, just dramatized for the camera. Does that make sense?”

You nod, the pieces finally clicking together in your brain. You don’t say anything, and you don’t have to. All you do is squeeze Wanda’s fingers tighter and move closer to her on the couch. 

Turning the TV back on, you rest against her, your head resting on her shoulder. When you glance up at her, the green in her eyes sparkles back at you. Something settles deep within you, and Wanda rests her cheek against the top of your head.

—

You stare blankly at the script in front of you. The pages flutter slightly as a gentle breeze sweeps through the actor’s tent. Sounds of chatter flow around you, but you remain unresponsive, the words on the page swimming off and distorting as you try not to panic. 

A sinking feeling makes its way into your chest, the reality of the scene you’re about to shoot finally setting in. 

You have to kiss Wanda Maximoff. 

Sure, it’s an on-screen kiss, it’s not like it means anything. Right?

But there’s a small part of you that longs for it to be real. Some stupid part of you that you try to get rid of that wishes it meant something to her. Because it sure as hell means something to you. 

But it won’t mean anything to her. It’s a fake kiss. One meant for the screen. You build your walls, surrounding your heart with impenetrable stone as a calm iciness envelops you. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

—

Her lips are inches from yours, and you can’t stop looking at them. They’re plump, and slightly glistening from a light coating of lip gloss. There’s a red undertone, and you find yourself yearning to discover what she tastes like. 

You hesitate. 

“Cut.” The director calls, and you blink, stepping away from Wanda. 

“Remember,” The director begins, and you focus all your attention on her, ignoring the concerned look Wanda is sending your way. “Your character wants this, she’s not hesitating. She’s been yearning for this for weeks now, and I need you to show that through the screen. I want to feel the tension, the desperation.”

She pins you with a look, a sort of knowing glint in her eye. “Understood?”

“Yep, got it.” You offer a smile, the fakeness of it making you cringe. Your makeup artists swoop in, touching up the smallest details possible, while you avoid eye contact with Wanda. 

“Hey,�� Wanda’s voice is soft, and you glance at her. Her eyes are locked on yours, and you somehow can’t bring yourself to look away. She looks almost… sad.

“Are you alright?” 

You mentally scoff, your walls crumbling slightly as the green of her eyes threatens to overtake you. “Yeah.”

The clipped tone of your voice rebuilds your walls, the stone solidifying once again. You turn away, walking towards the beginning spot of this scene, not seeing the confusion that overtakes Wanda’s expression. 

A wave of sadness crashes through her, all the times that you’ve been pulling away from her running through her mind as she makes her way towards her own spot. She attempts to meet your eyes again, but you refuse. 

She knows that this scene won't be successfully shot today. 

“And, action.” 

You look up, your character snapping into place quickly, your eyes dark and full of longing. Wanda is startled by the sudden change but snaps into her own character quickly as you walk slowly toward her. 

“Don’t say things like that,” Your voice is low, your emotions swirling in the forefront of your mind. 

“Things like what?”

“Things that sound a lot like love confessions,” You hear your voice break and want to cringe. It fits perfectly for your character, but you’re unused to sounding so weak. 

“Why not?”

Your body is pressed against Wanda’s, her chest grazing yours with each shallow breath she takes. You almost believe that it’s real, just for a moment. You desperately wish it was. 

Wanda’s eyes search yours, and you’re reminded that she’s playing a character. A character that’s falling madly in love with you, unconcerned about the repercussions. A character that couldn’t be further from reality. 

You hesitate again, your body refusing to move your lips closer as your mind wars with itself. 

Wanda sighs, and the director calls out again. You barely hear what she’s saying, your body practically propelling itself away from Wanda, focusing on rebuilding its walls as her hand twitches toward you. 

“It’s alright, “ the director is saying, and you force yourself to focus on her. She’s smiling gently at you, her voice kind, “Everyone has off days, we’ll try again tomorrow. It's been a long week.”

Nodding jerkily at her, you wave off your team, choosing to return to your trailer instead of following them. You’ll deliver your costume later, or have someone come pick it up. But right now, you need to be alone. 

Walking quickly, you practically sigh in relief when you reach your trailer. You’re quick to unlock it, pressing the door open urgently and twisting slightly to close it. 

A hand stops you, delicate fingers wrapping around the door as you look up in shock. You hadn’t realized anyone was following you, but looking into those iridescent green eyes, you understand. 

Wanda says your name, her voice holding a pleading edge to it, and you can’t bring yourself to deny her. 

You open the door wider, silently giving her permission to enter. She brushes past you, fingers twitching but not touching you. She seems to want to touch you, and you try and push down the part of you that wants her to. 

“Why are you…” She hesitates, not knowing what to say. 

Raising your eyebrows, you resign yourself to having this conversation. You knew it was coming, but you find yourself inadequately prepared for it. Standing awkwardly in the middle of your small trailer, you simply stare at Wanda. 

“Why is it so difficult to kiss me?” Wanda’s eyes are sad, and you want to cry. You hadn’t meant to make her fucking sad, and now she looks like a kicked puppy.

The tears that spring into your eyes are unexpected, and you blink furiously as they begin to spill down your cheeks. Wanda steps towards you, but you evade her, opening the door and gesturing for her to leave. You refuse to cry in front of her, not when your heart is seconds away from tearing in two. 

“When I kiss you I want it to be real, I want it to mean something, Wanda.”

The door shuts firmly behind her, and you miss the understanding and longing that appears in her eyes. Wanda turns away, a single tear escaping her. 

Of course it would mean something to her. It would mean everything. 

—

It’s raining, and you want to cry and laugh at the same time. 

Wanda had left you a voicemail. You’d stared at your screen while watching her contact picture pop up as she called you. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to hear her voice, so you let it ring. 

What you hadn’t expected was the voicemail. 

“I just… fuck, I don’t know what I want to say but it would mean something to me. I promise. I- you. I hate this. I hate this distance, I hate that I can’t help you and I hate that I’m falling in love with you.”

The message had ended pretty quickly after that confession. You’d heard a few muttered curse words, and then a dial tone that rang in your ear long after you lowered the phone.

You didn’t know what to do, so you grabbed a rain jacket and started walking. Hoping it will clear your head. Your feet had other plans it seemed, as you found yourself walking up the driveway of Wanda’s home. 

It surprised you, as she lived at least fifteen minutes away by car. You barely remembered the walk there, having been trapped in your own mind as your body brought you towards the only thing you could think of. The person who had consumed your every waking thought, and invaded your dreams.

How fucking typical and cinematic it was, walking up her driveway in the pouring rain. You could see a few lights on, and you begin to prepare a speech. Something super lame and mushy about how much you like… fuck that. How much you love her. 

Fuck. You loved her. 

Of course you did. You’d gotten to know and love the woman behind the famous persona she’d created. The soft, caring woman who loved gardening and puzzles, who hummed along to songs as she cooked, and who looked at you with impossibly soft eyes. 

You knock, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest. 

Green eyes meet yours, and you recoil. They’re cold and dull, so unlike the usual sparkle that you’re used to, and you feel your walls build higher even as you plead with yourself to lower them. 

Turning, you feel your feet start to walk away, your mind replaying that dead look in her eyes. Your heart fortifies itself, trying not to break as you make your way down the driveway. Tears blur your vision, your ears ringing with embarrassment as you try to remember the way back to your trailer. 

“Wait, just… fuck. Wait.” A firm hand grips your forearm, and you spin in surprise. 

There’s fire behind those green eyes, and you stand still. Wanda’s auburn hair is drenched, rain pelting down on the two of you, running down her perfect face as she blinks at you. 

“I…” She can’t seem to get the words out, her eyes boring into yours. 

Time stands still, the tension thick as you allow yourself to glance at her lips. You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, threatening to escape. You let them. 

“I love you.”

Wanda speaks at the same time, her words slightly faster than yours. Green eyes widen in surprise, and you feel a wave of immense relief sweep through you. 

Rain continues to pour around you, but you barely notice. Within seconds, Wanda’s hands are cupping your face, your own grabbing desperately at her waist as your bodies draw together like magnets. Her lips find yours, and you feel something click into place as your lips slide together effortlessly. 

It feels like coming home after a long day, the months of pining and uncertainty coming to a head as you melt at the feel of her lips against yours. Your shoulders relax, tension seeping out of you as you chuckle. 

Pulling back, you stare at her, watching her eyes crinkle as she mirrors the wide smile on your face. She’s perfect, and you whisper one single thing before your lips find hers again, rain soaking the two of you as you embrace. 

“This is real, I promise.”

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta

[tea-and-secrets]

ok ok fuck it um basically this girl asked everyone whos in the same team as her to make a presentation explaining their proposal for a patented product, and she wanted it due by 5 pm. it was 4pm. When I told her that two people in the team couldnt do this because we were literally IN CLASS and for her to please be fucking considerate she was like well sorry but it HAS to be done by 5 ^_^ im not going to be considerate, cope, and then i was like dude, calm down you shouldve set a deadline yesterday she was like "HOW DARE YOU CALL ME DUDE, YOURE SO DISRESPECTFUL WE ARENT EVEN FRIENDS SO DONT CALL ME "DUDE" ". Everything kind of devolved from there, where I kept telling her to calm the fuck down and that i could call her whatever i wanted because the two times weve talked shes just been really mean, and then it was her playing dumb and being like "omg if you dont care about your grade thats your problem but this is EVERYONES grade go ahead tell the teacher about this because then ill show her how RUDE you are for CUSSING IN MY GENERAL DIRECTION when ive been NOTHING but respectful and reasonable :)" Just. Shes awful and I dont even know who this girl is cause she never talks to anyone in class she just scowls at people whenever they try to talk to her. I dont know if this is like some weird religious thing why she doesnt want to be called dude, i dont think shes a mormon or a JW or whatever cause she has dyed hair and wears pants but like. Whatever. Instead of being bitter I will channel all of my energy into succeeding so SHE ends up being bitter about it instead. Thats the context for the Mia anon, you can just screenshot this and put it in the other anon or whatever. Shes got a really punchable face, thats not coming from a place of misoginy im also a woman, shes the kind of girl you just want to kick her teeth in so that she doesnt open her damned mouth again. If anyone has any suggestions for what to submit let me know, reply them or something.

.

[timecryptid]

I’m rewatching the Diary of a Wimpy Kid movies over the next few days. And I’m writing down stuff as I go.

I literally found the 2021 version, which was literally marked as the 2010s one. Ridiculous. But the opening? Iconic. Number one the dedication from lazy ass Rodrick who doesn’t get up early for shit getting up early to prank his brother is dedication. Number two this is the best Rodrick of course.

I love Greg’s mom. Milf energy.

Oh no the even more dedication to then pretend to be asleep.

Greg is such a cutie. And the animation is weirdly good. And the fact that older Greg is literally the same.

Rowley is pretty awesome yall.

This was before the main character talking to the camera was overtired.

Rodrick is and will always be the best character. And the chemistry between the brothers is amazing.

Are these actual pictures of the kids? And honestly Greg? Same. I haven’t grown since middle school. Also got me thinking about calm collected older brother Greg and hullagen middle brother Rodrick.

19th Greg? Never.

Did they segregate the kids by gender in the 2010s? I never got that.

I thought one of the boys grabbed another’s ass. They didn’t though.

Though the transitions to the music is really well done.

I fully believe that all cool I’m not like other girls actresses turn out to be attracted to women in one way or another. It’s inevitable. The flannel? It’s a sign.

Greg, let Rowley flirt with the not like other girls girl. She’s hot. From a teen to a teen of course. But she does turn into a hottie later. Love her actress.

Someone should have just thrown the gross disgusting cheese away.

Why do mens bathrooms not have doors? What is wrong with y’all?

Just eat outside or something guys?

Who the hell is the bully? I recognize him. I’m looking it up? Holy shit I think he was in Supernatural. He was in Supernatural.

I love Rodrick. And how honest Rowley is.

Oh no. Dont go into Rodricks room. Also no Rowley he isn’t into motercycles.

You want to be in the yearbook? Your middle school yearbook? Really. God damn it Greg focus on other and better things.

Rodrick is going to shove that drum stick up Greg’s ass. Or at least that’s what it looks like.

Rowley is a great friend for risking his life for Greg. Also Rodrick should have barked at Rowley. It would have been funny.

Just pee out the window or something babe. Rodrick the bitch for just putting his shoes there. Also what did you think was going to happen babe? You should have waited for him to finish peeing before jumping out at him.

Also Rodrick is a basterd and I love him for it.

I love bitchy women. Go off Patty. Plus she definatly had a reason for kicking his ass. Greg’s the bad guy in this movie.

Also the paper is the voice of the people? And you’re talking about some cheerleader and how much weight she’s gained?

All I’m thinking of is the South Park episode with Wrestling. A good episode. Coach is not getting up for a while. You would not be wrestling that guy Greg.

Fregly just told you that he is using his moms wreasting gear and you think you can take him? In your dreams Greg.

Wrestling really is just so gay.

As someone who didn’t do clubs, I relate to Rodrick.

That sounds like so much work. I’ll stick to being a fatass.

Go Patty go!! Kick his ass girly!!

Oh like you were ever that high up. Just stick to the middle.

The kid who came in a suit was never the best. You look Mormon kid not fancy. Or even hot.

Now the homophobia. Plus we all know he’s fucking his brother not Rowley. Rowley deserves to be with that super cool girl although she probably gay as a former closeted lesbian and now an open lesbian.

I remember this weird ass PSA. “Do you guys like breakdancing?”

Babe Rowley is awesome without you. Let him be him. Also girl you are the one who is saying gag me with a spoon mean girl.

As someone who used to wear a backpack with one strap it’s a bad thing for your back babe.

Love the fit Halloween fit Rowley!!

Candy corn is good asshole.

I’m pretty sure Rodrick can just buy his own makeup. Also love that Greg hates Rodrick yet believes his stupid things. Rodrick is pretty good at being scary though. I would love to hear a horror narrated by him.

“How did the trees get there?” “And then they planted trees”

Rodrick should have been a drunk all I have to say. He would have been so much better if he drank beer. And it would have been hot.

Just drenching random kids with water. Also why announce that you’re calling the cops on them dipshit? That’s stupid.

Don’t make fun of them idiot.

You should have listen to your your mom Rowley. Greg is an asshole.

Devil Worship woods is fake dipshit. You’re what a high school? You should be past this shit random bullies.

I am now 45 minutes in when does the plot come in?

That was one of the nerdiest ways to call someone hot ever. Pig Latin? Really?

Is safety patrol real? I’ve never seen that or hall monitor down by kids.

No way I’ll find out who this is on my own but the kid at 47:12 is really familiar.

You’re lucky for Rowley dipshit.

Another thing I love about Rodrick x Greg is that Greg is also a shitty person along with Rodrick.

Girls like a man who’s a bit pathetic what can I say? But not too pathetic.

Just because you draw all the time doesn’t mean shit.

Zowee Mama!! It’s ducking haliariius. But in a weird way. Also as a non autistic person is Rowley supposed to be autistic?

Also I do like that Greg never gets his way. Instead it’s Rowley who Greg shits on constantly.

Greg is a piece of shit. And a bad friend.

Listen to you’re milf of a mom Greg. She’s amazing and I love her. That was not the right thing to do asshole.

I hate the trope of “oh my god this thing is so funny and then it’s just just the worst things ever!” It’s so bad.

But also “Don’t call me. Don’t come by my house. We’re done.”

While I am a incest girlie. Greg and Rowley does have appeal. It’s quite cute. Also this is a break up scene. Obviously.

Oh my god the kid I was talking about earlier? Got a name for him and looked him up. And he was on fucking Supernatural!!! I should have known y’all.

Maybe if they didn’t limit his candy intake it wouldn’t affect him like this you know. But that kid is weirdly terrifying and that is so fun of him. Love a creepy and terrifying weirdo.

Yet another iconic scene with the singing. And it’s revekaged that Greg has one of the best voices. But kid 2 has a pretty decent one. Though it’s totally not the actors voice.

Greg as Dorthy would be beautiful. Him in the dress? Love that for him.

I also would have loved to throw apples at anyone. Not just her.

Just a suggestion don’t draw attention to it. His eyes being drawn to Rodrick is amazing. Forgetting your lines is more embarrassing idiots.

Another ship idea. Greg and Patty where they grow up and she would absolutely peg the shit out of him. I’m thinking of the cock shame picture.

Why didn’t Rodrick say anything at the play. Rodrick actor is just so fucking good.

The kid playing Manny is just so cute.

I mean at least Rodricks hot. His music sucks. Also Rodrick is hitting all the right points.

Also Susan love you babe but it’s a magazine with half naked women. It’s not even full porn. And even then it wouldn’t be that bad. Porn is okay for women as long as they are consenting.

God Greg’s mom is hot. Other then the anti porn shit of course.

Not only do Rowley and his mom have this song choreographed but the dance floor is completely empty for most of it. Damn.

I’m like an hour and 19 minutes in will the cheese ever become relevant.

Okay Rowley maybe don’t bring the broken arm into this. There are more reasons he sucks.

I forgot this peice if shit makes them eat the fucking cheese. I will be skipping this because ewe.

Well you tried I guess Greg. Is the not like other girl girl suppose to be Greg or Rowley’s live interest?

And the scene of them making it is so fucking romantic. This is the gayest shit I’ve ever seen yall.

Bitch Patty is a girl boss and you’re just not able to see it.

In conclusion. Good movie for it’s time. Some fat phobia of course and homophobia. But watching it makes me want to re read the books now. But I’m going to watch the other movies which I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen before. Two I might have but after that I was too old for them.

[sinister-faye]

Gamedev: rising revengance

Developing a game is hard. Like, really fucking hard. Developing a game solo, is an entire stratospheric difference in difficulty. So before I dive into my own personal gamedev journey I just want you to really, and honestly appreciate how we have so many solo developed masterpieces to play right now. And I'm just hoping to release... Something, someday.

This is development blog #0 on a game. I'm not even going to tell you what type of game it is yet. Not even the engine. My gamedev journey truly started when I learned how to become the person who could make and finish a game. Everything before hand was education.

If you find yourself getting stuck, I hope that this blog page can give some inspiration. And that if you see yourself in this, you can know that there is hope for you yet.

I really hope that some of you are coming back from future updates, hello! And if you are here and there is no blog with a number higher than this one, please be patient. I'm gathering enough content to make them informative while also being able to release them at a steady pace. (Hopefully also do some YouTube videos to supplement)

This gamedev blog will walk you through the process it took me to go from 0 experience, and trial and error-ing my way through to a final product.

So here is what I consider to be step 0:

In order to know what my game was going to be I had to get to know how I worked as a person and what my motivation even was for making a game.

Know thyself

The main obstacle and asset you have to face when developing a game solo is: yourself. This is neither a good thing nor a bad thing. Even with heaps of trauma and issues, no matter what you are YOU. The habits, thoughts, and feelings you have are still you. To assign good and bad feelings to those aspects of yourself is just going to hurt. But knowing where you are is the step to get you where you hope to be.

And by knowing yourself I mean really knowing, like: How do you respond to anger, frustration, stress? What calms you down? Do you disassociate? If so, when? Do you have a way to snap out of it or are you disengaged from your own life?

And the most important question I learned in getting to know yourself: can you make direct correlations between what happens to your life, and how you feel? I'll come back to this one shortly.

For myself, when I started this journey I was a cis straight male with some patience issues, time commitment problems, and a difficulty remembering my past. (Jesus Christ, I didn't know who I was at all. Spoilers this was not the person I wanted to be.)

About 3 years ago I sat down and really decided to take a look within my head, heart, and soul. regardless of what I would find. So I could figure out "what was holding me back", that way I could fulfil my lifelong goal of making a game.

And to those who may not think this is that big of a deal, I was raised Mormon. If I didn't find an absolute devout member inside myself it would basically mean I was the worst person alive and would flay myself in guilt. I usually looked only at my surface level feelings, since I was honestly just terrified of what I would find. (My response is typical for those who feel they are different, but don't want to get punished by their god, or more specifically their support group that is their religion)

I found out that I was a mess. I had religious PTSD, gender dysphoria, and ADHD. Not one of which I had ever even attempted to acknowledge existed in my life. I just turned 37 years old this week, and for the first 34 years of my life I was taught to just push everything down, ignore any and all of my own personal problems. And just hope that God would fix things when I really needed it. It doesn't work like that, and the only thing you will find going down that road is more sorrow.

That discovery broke me. But It was like re-breaking a bone that had healed incorrectly a long time ago. I looked back and saw how I was just limping along, a husk of a person that was just disassociating their way through life. Just coping to get by.

I suddenly just saw how my religion was bullshit, I saw how much I Y E A R N E D to be a woman. How much I was stuck a trauma response most days. I was constantly moving between freeze, and fawn. I wanted everyone else to be happy, and maybe if I could make them happy / calm I could enjoy my life without fear for a little bit.

With this newfound knowledge I thought for sure I had myself all figured out, I was ready to take on the world, as it turns out this was just the top level of getting to know me.

Suffice it to say, dear reader, that my meditation, observation, and recording of my own behaviour has gone so much deeper.

Every month I try to make new observations about current behavior from myself. And then try and work on a way to change the behavior if it is not in line with what I want out of life.

So three years of changing, three years of pondering " why can't I just stick to making a game?" I found it. I found the core of the incongruity between what I wanted to do with my life, and what I ended up doing besides my best efforts.

One night my darling wife made an observation. When I told her of a lifelong dream I said " I wanna make a video game, sell a million copies, and never have to worry about money again!" And she was observant, each project I started and flung myself headlong into I would always say "I'll be successful and sell a million copies".

My wife asked... "Why though, why does it HAVE to sell any copies at all? Don't you just wanna have fun?" And I didn't know. And for some reason that question scared the hell out of me. Like I shut down for a day and a half, that innocent question just rocked my core. And as much as I just said not to assign feelings to aspects of yourself. That can be really hard.

This is what I was talking about earlier, being able to draw a direct line between something that happens, and how I feel. My wife merely said "hey why is success tied to your creative project ideas?" And I was a mess. So I tried to trace back my feelings to what my issue was.

Trauma releasing

After some thoughtful meditation and internal questioning I had found my answer. I was trying to prove to people I was worthy of love and respect. I wanted my father to know that his daughter could actually accomplish something, I wanted my old teachers to know that I was a capable person, and that my failing high school wasn't going to keep me from success. I pretty much wanted "love revenge" on those I felt had ignored me. Like I wanted to make something so cool, they would have no choice but to be impressed. But more importantly I felt like I wasn't worthy of love UNTIL I had accomplished a large task like this.

And it hurt. A lot. I cried letting all my thoughts out to my wife. And she told me "don't work on anything else, don't draw, or write, or program until you can find some motivation beyond external validation."

My heart just wanted to be loved. And whenever I was looking for it I would bury myself in a project or gamedev. So if I ever found some I would just kind of give up.

So I spent the last year or so just learning what gets me excited, what gets me passionate, what I WANT to do, rather than what I think would sell or be popular.

The way I changed myself is the other half of how I can become the person I want to be. So if I'm lacking validation, I need to be there for myself.

So I tried just working on a piece of my game every day. And making sure to give myself some internal validation. I have twin 3 year old kids, and anything they do, no matter how small, I praise them. Same thing with finishing a piece of code, or a 3d model, or even a line of dialogue. I tell myself good job! You're one step closer to your dream.

So I wanted someone to be there for me, so I showed up for myself.

For the past 18 years I have been learning how to use game development tools. And in all that time I've never felt as fulfilled as I have now. I'm making this game for me. And that is why I'm confident enough to say that this will be my first game I will release.

I know Im not done getting to know my own mind. But I have discovered new ways and new tools to help myself.

Because I will know myself.

Next post will be about my actual knowledge journey. Rather than my emotional journey. And I will also be looking forward to showing you my first screenshots in my next blog post:

Gamedev blog #1 psx aesthetics for the unreal engine. And how I got here.

[celestialvexation-arch]

I decided to read back see what I missed and Holy fuck antis need to calm down maybe they are the ones that need to get laid like they remind me of this crazy Mormon who used to go to high school with me turned out he was the biggest perv and creep and almost all the girls had a bad encounter with the guy

They keep throwing Clowns name (like the dude who would throw the name of god) as a way to justify the bladed bias and hatred over others like do they not read books? Do they not like art? Their is no such thing of something with NSFW stuff or nudity that is how we have such beautiful things because creators took a stand made the taboo art

jesus christ, yeah

i mean, we're already living in an era ( or returning back into a certain one ) where nsfw fanworks, esp from queer folks, are gradually becoming restricted and condemned. just even something suggestive is enough to make others side eye you as tho you're a criminal in the making. they're always willing to use any reason, even going so far in using their supposed idol as a prop, to shame nsfw creators -- calling them out, and throw them out into the mob right in the spotlight so they'd be between down by nasty threats and shitty insults

i mean hell, there are actually cases where antis are allowed to enjoy a few taboo themes for themselves but not for others to enjoy! a "rule for thee, but not for me" type of thing. it's absolutely fucking maddening to witness lmao

[thundergoodspeed]

one more thing because no, i will not shut my fucking mouth

and i know who wrote the doc, but i want to point out the specific bits about me that were written by someone else.

you can’t say i was “okay” with shit.

i simply did not engage with aku’s callout because i was not involved. i did not know aku (and i still do not, and do not care to). i considered unfollowing you when i saw you post a callout, simply by dint of it being a goddamn callout.

i engaged when someone i actually did talk to was dragged into it. if it makes me a “white knight” to try and be a devil’s advocate for someone i consider a casual friend, sure, i guess? but i’d do the same for anyone if i felt there were unfair actions being taken. i was still on your side when i reached out, i was simply trying to set a record straight. you’re the one that took it the way you did because you talked to one person who, by all accounts, is a bad person. i will put my foot down on this. NO ONE who threatens suicide is okay with me. remember the other day when i mentioned the birthday of a friend who died? guess how he died. take a wild fucking guess. since then i will try and be there for people who are feeling like that’s their only option, simply because i don’t want their friends to go through the shit i did when he died. i have no sympathy for people who use that shit to manipulate.

you say i’m in a cult. that i don’t have to know i’m in a cult to be in one. here’s the thing about cults: i actually have been in one. (since your stat counter will tell you where i’m from, i don’t really have to say which cult. but for clarity’s sake, yes i’ve been baptized in the mormon church.) talking to someone on a discord pm, letting someone rant at me about shit just to get it off their chest because they know i won’t actually do anything with the information is not being “in a cult”. here’s the thing, i’m a sponge. i’m good with being someone to rant at. you could rant at me any time you want. even name drop some shit. i’m not going to do jack shit with that information. i’m also not going to hold you up as some kind of god because i’m friends with you. i’m not going to keep quiet if i think you’re being unfair, either. but the thing is i’m not going to drag others into it. i’m not going to reach out to those others and yell at them. i’m not going to provide others with the information they need to yell at them, either. i’m the one who tries above all else to be the friend. i want to be the mediator. i want to be the one who helps fix friendships. and if it’s just people wanting to get shit off their chest instead of blowing up at their friend, then i’m good for that. i’m also pretty good at being like “are you sure you’re not thinking too hard about this” because guess what? we’re humans. as an overthinker myself, i know what it is to think too hard into something someone said. hell, overthinking THIS FUCKING CALLOUT BLOG gave me a panic attack at work so hard that my boss had to calm me down. 

and i do owe you an apology. because i’m pretty sure you’re gonna read this. not gonna put down a name, you’ll know if it’s you (and if you think it’s you but you’re not sure, you can just ask me. i’m still open for communication.). i didn’t actually know you had a stat counter. i didn’t know my location was being shown to you every time i visited your blog. so yeah, my anxiety had me checking your blog every five minutes and in retrospect made me look like a creep. i really do apologize for that. i thought you were stalking my blog, and in thinking so i tried to validate my suspicions, but only reaffirmed yours. so i went cold turkey in not looking at your blog, and i’m still not going to here because i don’t want you to think i’m obsessed. i’ve already done enough to make you think that, and i’m sorry about that.

tl;dr: callout blogs/posts/stashes are bad. the people behind them usually feel too hurt to do anything else. i’m not a white knight, i’m a devil’s advocate with hard stances on certain morals. calling it a “cult” is a misnomer. i am very sorry for seeming like a stalker.

and i’m going to go back to grieving my dead friend, celebrating my living ones, petting my cats, and brainstorming my webcomic. you can come to me if you need to rant, whether it’s about me or someone else, and i promise not to share it with anyone else

[thatharringrovehoe]

The first time Billy yells at their kid, and I mean really yells, is when they’re four years old. And look. Okay. Yes. Children are precious and don’t know any better and are just trying to navigate through a world that’s too big for them. That they’re not ready for. And it’s the adult’s job as a parent to guide them. To nurture them. To be the bigger, more mature person. He knows this. But something not enough people talk about is how no matter how much you love your kids, your issues you've carried all your life don’t magically disappear when they place that new born in your arms. That all the screaming clawing trauma of your own childhood follows behind you step for step like a shadow. And yeah. He’s gotten therapy. Pretty much had to after an interdimensional flesh octopus hole punched his chest like a good damn book report. And he’s been getting better. Really. But sometimes even though you love someone, you break anyway. Because parents are human. They boil over. Make mistakes. So when the cat knocks scalding hot coffee down his leg because some goddamn Mormons pressed the doorbell and fucking held it, making him jump up hitting his knee against the table and Billy’s gunna lose it because his son has been screaming for going on forty five minutes now about how much he doesn’t want to brush his teeth and Steve left his goddamn second alarm on AGAIN so Billy is running on less than three hours of sleep and that was the last of their coffee and those assholes are still holding down the damn door bell and-

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

He means it to include everyone but he’s looking at their little boy as he says it. Yells it. Roars. Like a monster.

Like him.

The doorbell stops ringing. The cat has scuttled away. The house is dead silent for all except the drip drip drip of coffee falling from the table to the floor in a growing puddle. Of the hushed little sniffles of a snotty nose.

Their little boy is looking at Billy like he’s never seen him before. Lamplight blue eyes wide and terrified. Cheeks puffy and red from crying, lower lip wobbly. But he doesn’t make a sound. Sits ramrod straight in the booster seat he’s been camping out on for over half and hour because if he brushes his teeth then it’ll make his mouth taste funny. He wants to taste his lucky charms a little longer. But they had to get to a dentist appointment in fifteen minutes and… And Billy put the fear of God into his four year old child over a fucking dentist appointment?

Billy takes a half step forward, hand reaching out to fix this, when the little boy finches. Breath hitching. Doesn’t say a word. Because… because Billy said so. Demanded it.

Respect and responsibility

Billy turns on his heel and bolts to the bathroom down the hall. Locks the door behind him then falls down to his knees so hard they crack against the tile, wretches into the toilet. Empties out the bacon and eggs and measly two sips of coffee he had this morning during breakfast with his son. And Jesus fuck he knew it. Knew he was no good. Steve was wrong and Billy should have never even considered the prospect of becoming a father. Steve is the one who’s good with kids. Patience so endless he carted six preteens around for three years till they were all old enough to get their own licence. Still does sometimes when they’re low on gas money. Because Steve is good. And Billy is Billy. Is mean and broken and fucked up and just like Neil. Always breaks things no matter how hard he tries. Sits there crouched down on the bathroom floor with his forehead against the toilet seat and cries. Ugly tears running down his cheeks to mix with the bile and spit on his chin.

It’s not till he calms down enough to take a few deep breaths that Billy realizes there’s a gentle pat pat pat of a tiny hand against the bathroom door. Sits up and swipes the back of his arm against his mouth and grimaces. Gets up and splashes cold water on his face. Washes his hands and takes a deep deep breath. Holds it. And lets it go.

When Billy opens the door, there stands his son, still dressed in his wonder woman footie pajamas Max got him for Christmas. He’s holding his favorite stuffed bear, looking up at his father with a hesitation Billy’s never seen in him before. It grinds the shattered pieces of his broken heart to dust.

Before Billy can say a single word the little boy shifts. Plants his feet. And God just that has all that broken heart dust blowing away on the breeze. Because Billy told himself he would never do this. Promised himself when the surrogate handed him the squirming blue bundle that was their child he would be better. Wasn’t gunna end up like his own father. And Billy wants to say something so bad but he can already feel more tears clogging up his throat. Doesn’t wanna cry in front of his kid. Losses the battle entirely when his little boy holds up his favorite bear to Billy. And he never lets anyone touch the ratty thing. Won’t even let Steve wash it so they have to stage a switcheroo Indiana Jones style while he’s napping just to put it through a quick cycle. Billy gets down to the kid's level and holds open his arms. Hopes to every God he’s never believed in that this is okay. His son rushes forward, little arms tight around Billy’s neck while Billy holds him.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I'm sorry

Later that evening, when appointments have been moved and multiple movies have been watched, Steve comes home from work to find his husband and child cuddled up on the couch, half way though watching Bambi and eating ice cream for dinner. They put their little boy to bed and Steve notices Billy’s face crumble a little when their son rushes off to go brush his teeth unprompted.

It’s only when they’ve kissed their son goodnight and gone down for the night themselves that Billy tells Steve what happened. And Steve gets it. Knows the things Billy has gone through. Knows how hard he tries. So he just holds his husband as he cries silently, wrapped around each other under the covers of their California king. Runs his fingertips up and down Billy’s back.

“I'm just like him”

Steve can’t stop himself from snorting.

“You’re really not”

Billy growls, all nasally from crying.

“How the fuck would you know Harrington?”

Steve rolls his eyes. Ever fond and exasperated in equal parts.

“It’s Hargrove now since I married your dumb ass. And I know you’re not your father because I know you.”

Billy scoffs. Steve is undeterred.

“Billy. Baby. Can you recall at any point in your life your dad apologizing to you? For like, anything? ”

Billy says nothing but Steve knows he heard. Knows the answer is no. Steve sighs, not for the last time cursing Neil Hargrove and his black shriveled heart.

“Our son knows you love him. So, you made a mistake. You’re human. You apologized. It’s gunna be okay.”

Billy holds Steve tighter. Whispers a ‘thank you’ into his chest.

In the morning, Steve buys more coffee.

[awkwardcreature789]

Crying because this is something that has the biggest toll on my life, I will literally avoid talking about my special interests because I’m so scared of social rejection and being disliked. Trauma response? Fuck yes. I was bullied for all my days I used to be in public school, which was from kindergarten to sophomore year. I was bullied for anything people could think of, and when I adapted to change myself in order to make friends, I’D GET BULLIED FOR THAT TOO. It was always this cycle of constant rejection and social starvation.

Too pale, too awkward, too fat, too skinny, too loud, too quiet, too weird, too normal, too expressive, too neutral, too rambunctious, too calm, weird for liking certain books shows or movies, weird for drawing, weird for being alone all the time, stupid for failing classes and tests, a teachers pet for passing classes and tests, a pushover for being kind, a jerk for setting boundaries, a crybaby for showing my emotions, a sociopath for not showing my emotions, the list goes on and on and ON.

You know what didn’t help either? The fact that throughout elementary and a bit of middle school I was in the hospital all the time because I literally had a fucking autoimmune disease that would flare up if I ever got sick and could very well kill me.

What also didn’t help, was my parents (at the time) were overprotective Mormon folks. Indoctrination is another thing that contributed too. “How come you can’t do anything on Sunday?” “Well because my parents say that god wants us to keep the sabbath day holy and-“ “ugh you’re so boring-“ (they’re better now- at least my mom is so much better, I’m out to them both and they accept me and are super chill about it now-)

Yknow what that led to? Middle school era.

I said yknow what? Fuck what people think imma do my own thing. (And keep in mind I was never diagnosed with autism and inattentive adhd until last year-)

Middle school me was fuckin ROCKIN, despite the bullying and despite daily harassment, I’d unmask (though I didn’t know I was doing that lol) and I’d let out my real personality, complete utter chaos and nonsense, but also the most kind and compassionate person you’d ever meet. One period id screech down the hallways with my best friend at the time, and the next I’d settle down from letting out my energy and ramble about my characters I would make and be super affectionate and sweet (basically a golden retriever)

Then 7th grade hit, and I dunno what the fuck happened but I guess being bullied so bad and bottling up my emotions and being left untreated for so long put my mind and hormones into a jumble of things and I ended up crushing on this guy and obsessing over him and stalking him (no joke) throughout the school and keep things he’d left, and I’d get angry and resentful towards girls he liked or interacted with (it didn’t help that my hyperfixation at the time was yandere simulator, which explains a lot about that era-)

I ended up plotting to murder his girlfriend at the time and like- dude it was concerning- then they broke up and I confessed to him and he rejected me, which now that I think back on it, he was really sweet about it and obviously was trying to let me down gently, but nope, rabid 12-13 year old me was like “well that’s a wrap” and I threatened to kill myself if he didn’t date me in a letter I slipped into his backpack, like I had a whole plan and everything and a date too

So again, basically yandere simulator personified, and to this day I still want to track him down to apologize for all of that hell I probably put him through..I feel really bad he was a sweet dude-

Anyways-

Note got turned in to my AP who already hated me because I was a whole demonspawn at the time and I got suspended and put in grippy sock jail for a week and then when I got out, Covid hit and all the schools shut down, blah blah blah,

Insert what you think is a redemption ark

(It was kind of but idk)

Rest that happens after that isn’t about bullying so I’ll stop there.

In summary, be kind.

Here's what I think: people should not care about what others think of a specific show/book. If they find it to be their comfort show, they shouldn't listen to those saying it sucks.

It can be the worst show or book on earth, but if there's a reason someone can enjoy it (a character they resonate with, a funny moment, good visuals, anything) they just should.

Maybe they like one part and not another one, so they can just keep watching or reading that one part on loop instead of the rest.

And if they don't like anything, or they lose interest, they can just drop it.

Nobody should have a say on what you enjoy and what you don't. Maybe if people understood this, there would be a bit more of peace at least on the Internet.

[quarthly]

Twilight characters as random animals that I think are oddly fitting

(Also yes, I am roasting the animals as well)

Edward: He would be a Cheetah. Now I know, seems like a cop out just because of his speed but hear me out. Cheetahs are, at face value, pretty cool. They used to be my favorite animal as a child, but then I grew up.

Cheetahs, through no fault of their own, are severely inbred. Now thats mainly because of poaching, but the cheetas anxiety also comes into play. In captivity, cheetahs are usually given emotional support dogs. I will admit it is cute but it negatively affects the population. Excluding one in the wild, cheetas can be to anxious to breed and thats not good for conservation efforts.

Cheetahs can hit up to 80 miles per hour in a couple of seconds. They are designed for fast running and agility. Their claws are similar to that of a dogs for better traction and they have elongated spines for longer strides. They have a thin build, long legs and a long tail for balance.

This has downsides though. Many times after making a kill, it will get stolen for them by larger predators. Thats right, they get absolutely bodied by the other animals. I should probably make these shorter but I'm on a rant now, so I guess this will be semi educational.

Throughout the series, we see Edward over estimated his abilities and value, constantly getting bodied by others. He's essentially a perfect mormon, though thats on S'meyers. He constantly judges others, dehumanizing them to their baser flaws, without doing any self reflecting. Him viewing himself as a monster doesn't really count to me. While he definitely hates himself, the only thing he is truly demonizing is being a vampire.

Bella: Picking up from Edwards, Bella is a Chocolate Labrador. Yes, she is his therapy dog. I feel like this is really fitting for her. I know Golden retriever would make more sense, as thats the most common breed for service animals. However, I kind of focused on her appearance. Only at first though! I just know that Edward raved about her human qualities and that would pass over as animals as well. Her chocolate eyes and brown fur, very average and boring. Thats essentially Bella. Even Edward wasn't into her until he got a wiff. Labradors a very loyal dogs and while they have more personality than Bella, I just couldn't shake it. Their also very stupid. Ok that's kind of mean, they're not stupid but when it comes to love, then yeah they are stupid.

I used to have a lab, loved him to death, but god he was something else. Very much danger prone, from their own stupidity or their lack of survival instincts. I know that labs are almost aquatic. They love water, swimming, all that jazz. We can just say that bella has a few screws loose in her dna and is just "not like other labs."

Rosalie: Now she was hard. There are quite a few animals that I think would fit for her. I'll list the other ones, but that one I went with is the Swan. Like Edward, seems a little on the nose, but I have my reasoning.

I was going to pick a predator for her, as she is shown to be very vengeful and viscous. I would have pick some type of cat, most likely a purebred, from a rich family. It could still work, but the swan just speaks to me on this one.

Swan's are known for being beautiful, graceful, and are pictured as the symbol of love. They are also very vain. Edward constantly brings up Rosalies vanity. She was constantly valued for her beauty as a human, so of course that crossed over in the transformation. She was raised to be married into wealth, she was used as a bargaining chip to increase the family's standing.

Rose has a very strong character and makes her opinions known. She's assertive and aggressive at times. She's not afraid to get dirty.

Swans mate for life and like geese, are known for being great parents. I was also going to choose geese as an option for the maternal instincts. I was wary at first because swans can be really aggressive. Like actually, you think geece are bad? Yikes bestie...

I was conflicted because swans are known for drowning dogs and sometimes people. However, I can actually see Rose drowning Bella. It's not that unbelievable lmao.

Emmett: Now this one is just ironic. I only associate him with bears. Its inevitable, but picking a Grizzly or Black bear is too obvious. So I went a slightly different route...

So I was going to pick the Sun bear just because of looks alone. Like, I'm not exaggerating, it looks like someone wearing a bear costume. I don't think it fits him but I know for a fact that he would dress up as a sun bear and sneak into a zoo to see if anyone would notice. I'll put a pic of it here

Like look at this thing. I have no words...

Anyway, what I picked was a Sloth Bear. Now Sloth bears are mostly nocturnal, which either way works consider vamps don't sleep. Their diet is also odd but honestly so is the cullens. They're native to the Indian subcontinent, and are known for being aggressive towards humans. Its said that for the most part they're pretty calm, so I think its just fear of humans that make them act aggressively. Honestly, that's a good thing because they are listed as vulnerable on the IUCN Red list.

They have some similarities with sloths, which is where they get the name. They have long claws and unusual teeth. They are known to hang upside down from tree branches, and is described as having a messy appearance. Honestly, Emmitt has a messy personality. Sorry bestie but you're a lot of work.

Now heres the biggest reason for choosing this bear. Aside from Baloo from the jungle book being a sloth bear, they are known to run fades with Tigers. Honestly, how fucking badass is that!? Now I don't think there are recorded instances of a Sloth bear killing a Tiger, but when push comes to shove, they can hold their own and I find that incredibly impressive.

Carlisle: This one was somehow the easiest as well as the toughest. I know Owl seems like the obvious choice, and I can see it. However, I believe Carlisle values emotional intelligence as much or if not more than academic intelligence. He is so charismatic and values other's above himself. He might not be as Saint like as Edward thinks, but he does try and I think he genuinely cares about others. For that reason alone, I choose a Elephant.

Elephant's are very social animals and are extremely intelligent. I could rave about them for ages, I love them so much.

Now elephants live in a familial unit and are usually matriarchal. Bulls usually are on the outer edges of the herd or form little groups with other males. Honestly, they're not that bad aside from when their in musk.

In the group of males, the elder ones will teach the younger where to get the best food, water, how to use things as tools, and every other thing that will increase their odds of survival. This is really cute to me tbh, they do this because the females usually choose the older males because they've proved that they are intelligent and strong, that they have survived and will continue to for awhile. Teaching the younger males these things are to make the odds of them getting chosen to mate more likely. The whole unit just reminds me of a father that has to deal with rowdy teens.

Carlisle likes to take in strays, he might not have a herd but he will make one and teach them to thrive. That's how he envisions it anyway. He just has a found family and is trying his best.

Esme: Now this might seem like an insult, but I promise it's not! This is in no way misogynistic. I love cattle and ever since I took animal science in highschool, I have appreciated these grass puppies like they deserve. Call me Castro because I love cows.

Yup! I chose a Cow for her. Specifically a beef cow. That might sound weird but its because beef cows have higher maternal instinct than dairy cows. I'm thinking Scottish Highland based on vibes alone.

They are nicknamed the Gentle Giants of Scotland. Super maternal and sweet and ugh look how cute they are!

Esme came from a abusive marriage and had just lost her child, she was depressed and desperate. Her changing was, in a way, salvation. She just fits in. She adopts all these strays along with him and will protect them to the death. She might be gentle by nature, but don't fuck with her family. She lost her first one and she isn't going to lose this one.

Alice: She's an odd one. There are so many possibilities and maybe I'm biased, but I feel like she would be a Crow.

Ok listen, I'm definitely biased but it just feels right. Crows get a bad rap, they are so cool! They are so intelligent and have the ability to actually sit and think about the past, prest, and future. I forget what its called, but this was only seem in humans! Maybe other apes, I can't remember exactly, but either way its awesome. They do live in groups, or murders, and remember people and faces. They remember locations and are able to pass down information through generations. They essentially have their own language! They are able to use tools too!

Alice's story is really sad. When we first meets her, it revolves around the death of her mother and her institutionalized. She was essentially tortured and forgot everything from her past. All she had was the future and even that wasn't constant. Crows a often viewed as omens, they are associated with death. I personally believe that instead of being the cause, they just know something is going to happen. They are very inquisitive and can be creative.

If you befriend a murder of crows, sometimes, depends or the group, they will bring gifts. Its can range from food to shiny metals and colorful plastic. Hell, I think I've seen a post of one stealing things from people just to gift it to their human.

Alice's love language is gifts. Even if they are focused around fashion, she still goes out of her way to get something that will look good and at least be a little comfortable. By that I mean she tends to forget peoples comfort zones, but she means well.

Jasper: Honestly not to sure what to put for him. I know a predator would be more fitting, but for some reason I can see a donkey working. I know, seems like I'm clowning on the confederate. Fair, but I'm serious about the donkey thing. Honestly, it would be perfect if it wasn't a herbivore. Porcupine would also work.

Being a predator would make more sense. Given his backstory and his characterization, it wouldn't make sense for him to be a prey animal. Usually I wouldn't count this, but given his gore filled past and trouble with the diet, it seemed fitting.

I see him as a Big Cat. Honestly, vamps in general just give cat vibes. Jasper though especially have some cat like qualities, which originates from hunting and being a soldier.

I specifically see him as a Mountain Lion. Aside from him being blonde, he just has the predatory stealth to him. In midnight sun, we see him use his gift to make the nomads overlook him. He's honestly really powerful.

Mountain lions are known for being stealthy with an air of grace and power to them. They are stong animals. And I mean strong. They can jump 40-45 feet.

They're very elusive and quite. They stalk their prey and tend to attack from behind but don't think they won't hold their ground if need be.

Jasper was changed during the Civil War and forced to fight in the Newborn wars. He was a soldier as a human and as a vampire. He's able to feel and manipulate others emotions. He's covered in scars and is very intimidating.

He still struggles with the diet and honestly I hate how the others handle it. Like they have no room to talk. I don't want to defend the confederate but it just pisses me off. He has to deal with his hunger on top of everyone else's. Like damn, besties always on edge! Everyone doubts him which I don't think helps any.

Also, Mountain lions and Cheetahs can purr!

@aquanova99 I'll do a Volturi one too. That one will be fun lmao

[carlislecullen-taxevader]

just finished reading midnight sun for the second time and here are my thoughts no one asked for:

(warning: spoilers obviously but this is also stupid long bc I don’t know how to shut up)

am I an edward cullen stan?

yes

do I want to be?

no

he is insufferable

tanya funding edward submerged in a snow bank just sulking

apparently vampires can move so fast they don’t leave any footprints in the snow???

physics smeyer??

but does this mean they could walk on water?

also eddie, buddy, you aren’t hades

you are just depressed and repressed and horny

and bella is not persephone, she hates greenery and her favorite color is brown

speaking of bella being persephone: she was simply eating mushroom ravioli

not condemning herself to the underworld

literally take a deep breath and calm down

also it’s not super cool of you, edward, to throw rosalie’s revenge on her attackers back at her

I truly wish she would have burned edward’s car just for the remark he made

also are we just going to gloss over the blatant favoritism that carlisle and esme show towards edward???

like come on

i know you’ve known him the longest but he’s been sulking around for literal decades and thats who you pick to be your fave??? when literally anyone else exists??

@alice and jasper: y’all need a dog??? i can bark

i’ll never forgive smeyer for making jasper a confederate soldier. never.

emmett my man, he’s just happy to be here

emmett might be our resident himbo but carlisle doesn’t have a thought behind his eyes and I stand by that

no I won’t elaborate

edward debating the entire book if bella is mentally stable

carlisle calling up billy and being like “lol we’re back hehe”

so um does bella not have a screen on her window??

I don’t think she does but if that’s the case then why the fuck doesn’t edward worry about her falling out the window?

he literally is worried about a meteorite crashing through her room during the night but not about her screen-less window

also not him justifying being a stalker with “well my family commits tax fraud on the daily so it’s fine”

and him bringing wd40 to oil the window

“it was enlightening and alluring to watch her in her element” babes she’s making a bowl of cheerios

I can’t stand him

the way eddie is convinced bella thinks he’s repulsive and disgusting

sir

I would live and die for charlie swan

and that’s all I will say on that

carlisle sending edward out for a night on the town so he can set up a christmas tree for him!!!!

emmett and jasper’s huge and elaborate game of chess

alice helping jasper cheat

jasper and emmett not letting edward play so he sulks around like a child

show me more of that smeyer

oh oh oh edward and alice’s relationship

honestly, it’s precious

that’s what I want to see

edward categorizing all the insects in the meadow and the surrounding area to calm his horny ass is peak comedy

very mormon of you smeyer

I knew edward was a car boy

reluctant but aware

however, I still hate it

edward being obsessed with cars: kinda cute bc he really is obsessed but also mainly nauseating

rosalie being obsessed with cars: simply sexy

the way smeyer just elaborates on things after the fact

like just completely neglected jaspers power the entire saga and so in ms she’s like “oops maybe I should talk about that”

and i’m glad she did bc!!! it’s so cool

i’ve always loved what jasper could do but it’s actually super complex and cool and I love him

him using his power to protect bella during the baseball scene from james

emmett and jasper being edward’s side mirrors is peak entertainment

edward making carlisle text babysitting instructions to alice

but also edward mansplaining how much water bella needs to carlisle as if he’s not an actual doctor

also real quick

the amount of malpractice in this damn book

‼️carlisle‼️drugged‼️and‼️left‼️a‼️soccer‼️mom‼️on‼️the‼️side‼️of‼️a‼️phoenix‼️freeway‼️

just left her stranded in the heat

I hate it here

emmett throwing the gaudy stolen car into oncoming traffic was my favorite part

however

aren’t you guys suppose to even vaguely pass as human???

besties

hate to break it to you

but that doesn’t cut it

it would hit me at random times that edward is literally 17 years old

someone tell me why they let the 17 year old orchestrate the car chase????

also edward wasting time trying to pick out which car he likes the best for said car chase and alice is like bitch ur gf is dying we gotta go

anyway someone tell me why edward sucking the venom out of the bite on bella’s hand is synonymous with the mental image of someone putting their head and open mouth under a soda fountain??

edward saying “but i’m a vampire!!” never fails to make me laugh

like babes we know

also you mean to tell me that jasper was in the dance studio with all of bella’s blood and a car with bella bleeding and her blood all over her and edward and carlisle and he never once thought of reacting (if he would have, edward definitely would have said something) but it was a little paper cut in new moon that did it for him????

I don’t buy it

alice wearing an oversized sweatshirt and smeyer calling it avant-garde

an oversized sweatshirt AND jaspers huge watch

that’s not avant-garde bestie

alice having so much fun orchestrating and staging the supposed accident at the hotel

I love her

renee is insufferable

get her out of here

i will say that the way edward describes peoples minds is really cool

like how charlie’s is quiet and low and jacob’s is bright and warm and content

that’s sweet I like that

there’s so much more I could say but this has gone on for too long

will say that it is shitty of eddie to have seen the vision of bella catatonic in new moon and still made the decision to leave her eventually

my final thoughts: edward, do better

[joezworld]

Any headcanons about Ever Ace and the other new A-class Evergreen ships? This totally isn’t just because I love your version of Ever Given and want more of her and her family XD

The following is an excerpt from How to Avoid Huge Ships, Or: I Never Met a Ship I Liked by Capt. John W. Trimmer (National Writers Press, 1982)

Chapter 14: The Emotional State of Ships

For most captains, the emotional state of a seagoing vessel (other than your own, of course) is often seen as irrelevant - after all, who cares if the seven hundred foot tanker about to run over you and your ketch is a nice person or not?

However, like many common beliefs in the marine industry, this is an incorrect one. The mental state of vessels is vital to continued safe navigation.

First, we must mention the obvious: An unhappy ship is a dangerous ship. Think about the last time you drove to the store while upset. Now pretend you weighed several thousand tons and required a mile and a half to stop in an emergency. I imagine your car insurance premiums might be a bit higher, no?

Then we must mention Fleets.

Allow me to explain: While this may be seen as a massively reductive statement, most large vessels (and most living machines for that matter, including commercial aircraft, railway locomotives, and even large dragline cranes) are best viewed as pack animals. When left alone to their own devices (and the growing economic benefits of 'machine autonomy' have meant that more shipping lines are allowing ships to go off by themselves!) vessels will often form a "fleet", as they call them, which substitutes for what we humans would call a joint family.

A fleet may include any number of vessels and relationship combinations, ranging from a number of single vessels who consider themselves siblings, to sets of separate married couples, and even groups of non-monogamous vessels whose conduct would make a Mormon blush. That being said, regardless of type, bonds formed in this manner are extremely strong, and will often overcome any difference between vessels - see the growing trend of former US Pacific Fleet vessels and their former Imperial Japanese Navy spouses!

Now, what does any of this have to do with the continued safety of marine navigation, I hear you ask? Well, let me put it to you in the simplest terms possible:

If you were to wrong me in some way, I might decide to take legal action against you, or I might lick my wounds and walk away. I might even go to the police if the offense were serious enough.

If you were to wrong a ship, and the offense were serious enough, they wouldn't lick their wounds, they wouldn't pursue legal action, and they most certainly would not go to the police. Most ships believe quite strongly in the merits of what could be charitably called 'extrajudicial punishment'. Most ships, if they are in such a relationship, would bring this to the attention of their fleet-mates, at which point you would not have one, but several, maybe even a dozen, extremely large and extremely angry ships going after you.

-

Of course, any discussion of the often-overlooked subject of Fleets is incomplete without at least a brief mention of the US/Canadian Great Lakes Fleet, which has managed to continuously add to their numbers through a process they call 'Lake-napping'...

-----

April, 2021 - Great Bitter Lake, Suez, Egypt

The Egyptians were insane, Given concluded. Aside from the obvious - where in the name of all that floated was she going to get nine hundred million US Dollars? - they'd actually called their Navy on her, like some kind of Triad enforcer making sure a mark didn't get away without paying.

He was a tiny ship, really - some old design that made its priorities clear, judging from his open-air flying bridge and thick hull, but the massive anti-ship missile pods on his aft deck showed he could punch well above his weight.

She'd tried speaking to him, but they didn't have a language in common - and that was impressive all on its own. From the short, clipped sentences, and badly accented Arabic, he seemed both Eastern European and decidedly unfriendly.

As the sun set on the end of the first week of what might be a very long stay in Egypt, she wondered if the line might abandon her here. The cheap fucks had already been making noise about replacing her with another, bigger ship, but Ace - still in the shipyard, but already proving herself to be just as loud and annoying as any proper 20,000+ TEU ship, bless her - had made enough noise about "not being a rebound date" that their hand had been forced.

Of course, that was all before the Egyptians decided that they wanted nine hundred million dollars, so who knows?

Another ship went by - the backlog still wasn't through, and convoys continued at all hours. This one was one from CMA CGM, and while she couldn't quite catch his name in the dark, she could absolutely catch the scathing French insults being hurled her way as he passed by.

"Je parle français, toi voilier sans hélice." She sniped at him, relishing in the startled yelp that trailed him into the night. The tugboats pulling him along laughed, and he growled at them as he moved further into the lake.

The missile boat looked at her with what might have been admiration, but it didn't stop him from keeping his guns trained on her as he changed his watch position to a spot off of her stern.

She honestly considered running - the mockery she'd get once she left Egypt might be too much.

As the next ship in line approached, she got a ping on one of the company radio frequencies.

Tuning in, her brow furrowed in confusion - now that everyone had satellite internet downlinks, internet chatrooms had become the primary communication method across the fleet. Evergreen Lines ships had all gravitated towards Discord instead of WeChat or Line, but their server had been strangely silent for most of the last week.

Opening the channel, she caught a flash of a call sign - What was Elpida doing out here? Wasn't she on the Australia run?

"Don't say a word, we've got it under control."

"You what? Who's we?"

Elpida swept past , literally - she was breaking the speed limit for this part of the lake, and had probably been doing so in the Canal too - the ropes to her tugs were taut, and judging by the Arabic screaming, they were trying to get her to slow down or at least let go. She was high in the water - her decks empty of containers - what the hell was going on?

Given was too big for the swells to affect her, but the Egyptian Navy ship wasn't, and he yelped in whatever his native language was as he rocked and rolled in Elpida's wake.

Behind her, a distant cry that sounded suspiciously like the word "Now!" rang out, followed by a deafening cacophony of foghorns.

She'd shut down her radar - because what really was the point? - and it took a worrying few seconds for the Furuno system to spin to life and return a clear result.

Or... what might be a clear result.

All hell seemed to be breaking out behind her - the convoy had broken formation and was going in what seemed like every direction possible. At least ten ships were now going berserk behind her.

The Navy ship, by far the smallest vessel out there, (except the tugs, who were fleeing for their lives, it seemed) spun around towards the main shipping lane.

Collision alarms immediately started wailing on the Canal's common channel as a very large blip on the radar screen (Who turned off their AIS transponders in the Canal?) slowly swung towards him.

The Egyptian seemed stunned for a moment - he'd drifted back into Given's range of vision, and his expression ranged between sheer horror and mildly poleaxed - before he calmed himself and stood down the ship bearing down on him.

That calm look lasted for a few minutes, but as the blip got closer and closer his confidence faded. The doors to his missile pods swung open, but his nerve broke before he could fire them, and the water around his stern frothed up into a roiling tempest as he set off at full astern.

It wasn't enough. He'd held his ground for just long enough for the other ship to reach him.

Slowly - this whole event was playing out in breathless slow motion, because nobody was actually that speedy - a bulbous bow, riding high out of the water without a load of containers, ploughed towards him. It was followed by a bowsprit, one that was so huge it looked like it could have been Given's own.

Then came the name: EVER ACE.

Then came the collision.

Ace (?!) didn't so much collide with the Egyptian ship as she drove over him. His low freeboard meant that the impact with her bulbous bow had his far side dipping into the water. Once his deck hit the swells, it acted like a giant scoop, and his keel was to the night sky within a few seconds. He'd been hit at an angle, so once he'd been pushed free, he slowly rolled back up, a much more traumatized and injured vessel than he had been a minute ago. More importantly, the water gushing out of his missile tubes meant that he was no longer a problem.

"Hey!" Ace boomed as her pilothouse drew even with Given. "Best Sea Trials Ever!"

Behind her, another ship - this one laden and looking a lot like Golden - steamed by. "Stop hanging around and get her out of here!"

"That would be my cue." Another voice called from behind her.

"Tex?" He was in Manila!

"Who else would it be?" Texas Triumph, thick Texan accent and all, steamed up. "now let's jus' get you settled up here and we'll blow this joint."

"This is a rescue?!"

"For sure pardner! We've been planning this since those highwaymen said they was keepin' ya here."

"Stop talking and get her out of here!" Golden bellowed from further up the river. It seemed like she was now intimidating some other tugboats from intervening.

"Well, ya heard 'er." Tex said. "Les' go!"

Given had been so distracted by the appearance of so many members of her family that she hadn't even noticed Tex slipping lines through her hawseholes until they went taut and she was yanked from her moorings by Tex steaming out in pursuit of Ace's retreating form.

She just barely managed to get her anchors retracted before Tex really put some power on, and began to pull her across the lake entirely.

------------------------------------

Later...

The War Zone

Ever Given Escapes Custody Suez Canal Authority claims no responsibility, Egyptian Navy vessel possibly damaged. BY TYLER ROGOWAY April 17, 2021 THE WAR ZONE

📷@mahmou10_ships VIA @SUEZWATCH_EGY

SHARE TYLER ROGOWAY View Tyler Rogoway's Articles @Aviation_Intel Details remain limited at this time, but there was an incident in the Great Bitter Lake. At least one Egyptian Navy vessel has been severely damaged, and MV Ever Given, who had been held in the Great Bitter Lake by the Suez Canal Authority, has now fled the Canal into the Mediterranean Sea.

Again, details are extremely limited, but based on social media reports, marine tracking data, and radio reports, at approximately 11:47 PM Egypt Standard Time (EGY) a disturbance was reported by the Egyptian Navy craft - their identity is still unconfirmed, but images posted to social media seem to indicate that the vessel is a former Soviet Osa-class missile craft. The vessel reported that "A convoy has gone mad" and he was "under attack from multiple vessels".

While a convoy had transited the canal at that time, it is unclear if they were involved in the attack, or if one occurred at all.

We've reached out to Evergreen Lines, The Suez Canal Authority, the Egyptian Navy, and the individual ships believed to be involved, including Ever Given.

We will update this piece as more information comes available.

Contact the author: Tyler@thedrive.com

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[gothicprep]

it's been many hours since i watched this video – link if you want some context – and it's still pricking at me a little. not because i think it's not written particularly well (it's not) or that i think the video essayist's reading of lacan is dubious (it is), it's just that we have profound philosophical disagreements in terms of our self-concept.

i'm going to ask you for your patience, because i promise i'm going somewhere with this.

i was talking to an ex-mormon about reddit (BEAR WITH ME) once, and he was talking to me about the ex-mormon community on the site being cathartic for him when he left the lds. in his own personal case, it went as well as it realistically could. his parents were shocked and upset at first, but they eventually came around and he's still in contact with them. he lost long-held friendships, but not all of them. and in the time between him admitting he was leaving the church and the people around him calming down, there was a lot of uncertainty. so the ex-mormon sub was a lifeline for him. eventually he didn't need it anymore and stopped participating. he observed that the veteran users were the ones who were hit the hardest by lds shunning practices and were never really able to recover from that, socially or emotionally.

there's a lot of overlap between what he's talking about here and conflicting ideas about what being in the lgbt tent means.

if i had to write down a list of what the most important contextual details of my vantage point are, i think my sexual orientation would be hovering around 15th-20th on it. so when i see things emphasizing the queer community (which is a nebulous concept at best) and define the experience in a way that's intended as a deliberate disruption of norms, it's kind of confusing. but that's for a reason – i'm the lucky ex-mormon, they're the ones who lost all their friends. the one who lost all their friends is going to be the loudest in ruminating about it. the one who didn't doesn't feel as though they have anything of value to add to the conversation, like they'd be the equivalent of a grandma who's been married for 70 years that gives dogshit relationship advice like "make every day count :)"

i can't help but think the imbalance in dialogue here is a bit misleading.

um, anyway, call me old fashioned, but i do like that "gay" is synonymous with happy. i like how baker's colors on the pride flag symbolize aspects of a good, fulfilling life. because that's really what it's all about – the opportunity for this. and a stupid little life simulation game where everyone is bisexual and homophobia doesn't exist implants a nice little message in your head, even if you don't know what to do with it yet. one that tells you that you'll be alright.

also the video didn't tell me whether the sims made me gay or not, so i wasted my fucking time.

I’m taking a break from my obligations and watching a video essay called “did the sims make you gay?” which should theoretically be right up my alley, given the lifelong sims fan and gay married aspects of my biographical information. but it’s not very good unfortunately. it’s definitely coming by it from a philosophical interpretation of “what does it mean to be gay/queer” that I don’t emotionally identify with very much.

I’m open to hearing that angle, but what really doesn’t help is that the guy presenting this just… isn’t very funny. his jokes just don’t land at all. makes me sort of wish I went the “smoke some weed and fuck up your productivity for the next 4 hours” direction of mental break

[cherienymphe]

I fucking HATE Stephanies mormon ass. The only reason she would let a black vampire be casted was if he could become a villain because in her theory transformation process removes all the melanin and makes the skin “pretty and crystallized” or smth like that

Yeah and the way she was so aggressively against alice being Asian? Like calm down girlie she can still be pretty and pale if it's that important to you but noooo she said whites only 😭

[artzychic27]

I posted 326 times in 2021

245 posts created (75%)

81 posts reblogged (25%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.3 posts.

I added 872 tags in 2021

#miraculous ladybug - 243 posts

#nathaniel kurtzberg - 110 posts

#marc anciel - 103 posts

#marc x nathaniel - 96 posts

#miraculous - 83 posts

#ao3fic - 75 posts

#akuma - 60 posts

#ask me stuff - 41 posts

#digital art - 32 posts

#juleka couffaine - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 43 characters

#you can pry this hc from my cold dead hands

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Y’all, I fucking love this anon! 🤣

Comment if your work has been visited by Sig.Ra Rossi or you’ve seen them in the comment section!

154 notes • Posted 2021-02-21 14:53:21 GMT

#4

Akumatized Luka Idea!

Class salt (Spare a few (Juleka & Nathaniel)) After their daughter comes home in tears, Sabine and Tom call for Luka to comfort her. She tells him everything that happened. Lila pulls some shit and everyone (sans two) follow her words while Adrien does nothing to help her.

To make his Broadway Baby girlfriend feel better, Luka sings some of Marinette’s favorite songs from musicals. The one that calms her down is ‘Our Love is God’ He sings the song with more passion than the others, since he finds himself relating to JD in a way. He thinks about all the people who have hurt Marinette, becomes angry, and cue Hawkmoth.

He gets Akumatized into Musical Mayhem. His goal is to destroy all those who have hurt his Melody by using his guitar case that carries various musical-themed weapons (Mountain Dew Red Bomb/Gun Hamilton was shot with/Mormon tie whip/Evan’s cast gauntlet/Heather’s sledgehammer/SQUIPS that he can use to control people)

Musical Mayhem’s philosophy is similar to JD’s, which is “Kill all the assholes.” He’s constantly smothering his ‘Melody’, will kill anyone who dares to hurt her or make her cry, and he sometimes sings. Also, he tries to destroy the school so it’ll just be him and Marinette.

At one point, when Marinette tells him to stop his rampage, he sings Meant to Be Yours

185 notes • Posted 2021-03-11 12:32:28 GMT

#3

If the Art Club was basically the Addams Family

They’re morbid, have a dark sense of humor, are never seen without black, and spiders hide in their hair

Nathaniel: Gomez Addams

Always has this sinister smirk that screams, ‘I will murder you in your sleep.’

Gets excited when his boyfriend speaks Spanish

Marc: Normal people. Tan extraño.

Nathaniel: Monochrome, you know how I get when you speak Spanish! *Kisses his arm*

Never seen without his black blazer

Sharpens the ends of his paintbrushes so they can be used as knives... No reason, just does it

Blood Red and Death Row Black are his favorite colors

A true romantic

Makes passionate love with Marc at least four times a day

Nathaniel: My monochromic nightmare. Stab my heart a thousand times and I will be yours until death do we part!

Marc: I’ll got get my dagger.

Nathaniel: Will it be painful?

Marc: So much.

Marc: Morticia Addams

Wears tight black outfits

Cuts the buds off of flowers

Marc: Ugh. *Cutting up roses* Who in their right mind would plant these?

Weirded out by normal people

Marc: Nathan. That child is smiling at me. Almost as if he were... Happy.

Nathaniel: Monochrome, look away. *Shields Marc’s eyes*

Writes morbid poetry and eulogies

When Mendelive asked him to a say a prayer for their dead class hamster, this is what he said-

Marc: Come, sorrow; we welcome thee. Let us join in grief, rejoice in despair, and honor the fortunate dead.

Cut to the students and teacher backed into a corner far away from him

Encourages his friends torturing people they despise

Marc: Alix, what are you doing with that bow and arrow?

Alix: I’m gonna shoot Kim when he’s not looking.

See the full post

214 notes • Posted 2021-03-26 22:11:48 GMT

#2

Headcanon!

Nathaniel is not above using blackmail

—

Nathaniel: *Sighs* Lila, I wish it didn’t have to come to this. I really didn’t. But, if you continue to lie about Marinette, harass Adrien, and take advantage of my gullible friends, I will show everyone this photo of you grabbing an Akuma. *Shows Lila the very incriminating photo*

Lila: HOW’D YOU GET THAT?!

Nathaniel: Just one of the perks of being unnoticeable. Do we have a deal?

Lila: … No! Forget it! I’m calling your bluff.

Nathaniel: Ah. I see… Well, in that case- HEY EVERYONE! LOOK! A PHOTO OF LILA! AND SHE’S-

Lila: *Covers his mouth* Okay! Just shut up and give me that photo.

Nathaniel: Nope. I’m gonna hold onto this as… Let’s call it leverage. Step out of line, and everyone will know you’re working with a terrorist, Rossi.

*One day later!*

Lila: *Being handcuffed* YOU BASTARD! I DID WHAT YOU SAID!

Nathaniel: Yes, but here’s the thing. I don’t like you.

215 notes • Posted 2021-08-01 16:56:52 GMT

#1

Anymore headcanons for the Artist Family? Are they rich and classy like the Addams?

They make a ton of money off of Marinette’s commissions, Marc/Nath’s VERY detailed gothic graphic novels, Juleka and Rose playing music at funerals, and Alix’s demolition business

The converted funeral home they live in is spacious and could be mistaken for a mansion

Rich people dining! Five chandeliers in the dining room, black as night table with thirteen candelabra made from ashes found in the embalming room, old caskets converted into cabinets, doilies spun by spiders, and a tigers head hanging on the wall

One of their Kwamis, I’m thinking Screech, takes a human form and drives them around in their car, a 1940 LaSalle Meteor Hearse

One of the teachers fainted when they came to school in that

Juleka: They’re clearly jealous.

Alix: Yeah! Not everyone gets to carry around the dead wherever they go!

There’s a ton of rooms in the house

The crematorium has been converted into a dungeon filled with vintage weapons they bought from museums

Marinette: How much for the battle axe?

Museum Director: Excuse me? I’m afraid these aren’t for sale.

Marinette: *Pulls out a massive wad of cash* Let’s try this again, shall we?

They gladly donate stacks of cash to local museums with torture and Black Plague exhibits. There’s even a couple of wings named after them

The embalming room stays, because who doesn’t enjoy a good embalming room?

Their closets are filled with 17/18th century gothic and modern gothic outfits

Marinette/Juleka/Rose/Marc/Nathaniel/Alix

Marc and Nathaniel rent out the catacombs once in a while when they’re on dates

Nathaniel: Look at you. Midnight, candle light, surrounded by death.

*An explosion cuts them off as they’re about to kiss*

Marc: One home, the six of us, and so many windows.

Rose and Juleka do the same but with cemeteries

Juleka: It’s shame we can’t watch the departed decompose above ground.

Rose: *Pulls out a shovel* Wanna watch now?

Learning about their wealth, Lila tries to kiss up to them by boasting about being related to H.P. Lovecraft. That didn’t end well

Nathaniel: The man is a notorious white supremacist. (Look it up)

She tried again

Lili: I-I meant I was related to Edgar Allen Poe! You see, he’s my great, great grandfather, and I actually dabble in a little poetry myself.

Marc: Poe had no children.

Marinette: But if you were his descendant, you would have an extra row of teeth or a tail, or you aren’t able to taste salt.

See the full post

236 notes • Posted 2021-04-15 22:49:07 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[jupitermelichios]

As yet untitled sequel to Gotham Ghoul - Batman comics, Jason/Tim

Dick paced, and when that didn’t help calm him down, flipped over onto his hands and continued.

It was stupid to be nervous about Tim's visit, but the fact was that they hadn't really hung out since they got Tim back from the Iceberg the first time.

They'd been so close when Tim was younger, but after the Iceberg Tim had pulled back from everyone, stopped talking about anything other than the mission.

Dick had tried to reach out after Jack Drake was killed, but it was like Tim had forgotten everything Dick had taught him about letting himself be loved, and Dick had let himself be pushed away. He’ll take the guilt for that to his grave.

But Jason is helping, getting through to Tim in a way no one else has managed since his mom died, and Damian and Steph are forcing him to be social, and Cass never had any problems understanding him in the first place, and Bruce has stopped just assuming Tim is always fine and started actually asking and sometimes Tim even answers him.

Which just leaves Dick, out on the fringes. Not in Gotham. Not part of the normal patrol rota. Not in Tim’s life the way everyone else is.

He’s going to fix that though.

His apartment is cleaner than it’s been since he first moved it. He’s spent half a month’s pay on food he thinks Tim might actually eat, and more different bottles of spirits than he’s ever owned in his life before in the hope that he might actually persuade Tim to have a drink with him if the drink in question tastes like alcoholic cherry Zesti, and DVDs of like 50 really depressing films about toxic masculinity and also Twilight because you never know with Tim. He’s even put fresh sheets on the bed because when Tim was younger he could generally persuade him to sleep there with Dick instead of alone on the couch and he fucking misses being able to cuddle his baby brother.

He’s promised himself that he’s not going to talk about sex unless Tim starts it, and he’s not going to freak out even a little bit when Tim inevitably starts talking about cannibalism, or all those mysterious accidents he keeps having since he started dating Jason, or something else horrifying that Dick isn’t nearly twisted enough to think of. He’s going to be nice, and as normal as any member of his family ever gets, and remember that just because he doesn’t really have boundaries that doesn’t mean Tim shouldn’t.

He’s so caught up in worrying that he nearly jumps out of his skin when there’s a knock on his door. No one uses the door. All his friends are window kind of people.

He flips back onto his feet and generally tries to make himself look less like he’s been pacing upside down again. “Coming.”

He's expecting Mormons, or Girl Scouts, or one of his neighbours come to complain about something. He’s so surprised to see Tim standing there, in his good-boy-disguise clothes, that he doesn’t say anything, just stares.

“Hello Dick.”

“You’re using the door.”

Tim quirks a smile at him, and it makes Dick feel a little better that he recognises it as a smile when no one who doesn’t know Tim would. The muscles in his left cheek tighten momentarily, almost a twitch, and his eyes narrow slightly, and Dick knows that this is Tim laughing at his awkwardness. “I do that sometimes.”

“When?”

“When it’s daylight out and I’m not dressed for breaking and entering. Can I come in?”

Dick steps back too fast, doesn’t need another of Tim’s not-smiles to tell him that he’s being awkward, but he can’t help it. Tim is here, in his apartment. There was a time when he’d thought that would never happen again. “It’s good to see you, little brother.”

“Jason has been teaching me to appreciate being seen.”

“Comm sex?” Shit, he hadn’t been going to talk about sex, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t talk about sex unless Tim started it.

Tim doesn’t look uncomfortable though, he just nods and says, “that too.”

“So what, any time you’re not responding on the comms it’s because Jason’s describing how he wants to eat you?”

Tim gives him a long look, and then turns and heads towards the kitchen. “You’re not old enough for this conversation. I’ll tell you when you’re 21.”

“I’m 25!”

Tim turns just enough that Dick can see his grin, wider than before but still not really a real-boy smile, “31 then.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve been having comm sex since before you were in green panties, young man.”

“But how much of it was with someone who wanted to crack open your bones and eat the marrow?”

“You’d have to ask Roy. Kori doesn’t, Babs only does when I’m being especially annoying, Wally… is terrible at comm sex, he’s not big on delayed gratification. Roy though…” He’s joking. Mostly. Dick loves Roy, he always has and always will, but they’re not super sexually compatible. It’s always a balance between how kinky Dick’s willing to go vs how vannila Roy can take, and while cannibalism is definitely too far for Roy, he knows for a fact that blood-play isn’t.

“And now I’m regretting not getting to know him better.”

“You can’t just collect cannibals.”

“I don’t see why not. Anyway Damian and Steph aren’t cannibals, they just eat people.”

“Ah yes, of course, because that’s much safer.”

“If we cared about safe, we both would have laughed in Bruce’s face the first time he offered to mentor us,” Tim points out. “Safe and vigilantes don’t go together.”

“I want to tell you that exclusively socialising with people who want to eat you is stupider than dressing up in tights and punching people who want to eat you, but I might have to concede this one.”

“Glad you can see my point of view.”

“But putting your soft bits in the mouths of people who want to eat you is still stupider.”