#experiments with rando brushes

[orinew]

I gotta say, I’m curious.

[dirtbra1n]

reclining and smoking a lollipop. I hope shirahama has a particularly bad time this week

[bountycancelled]

OPLA characters reacting to a sweet, girly reader who turns out to be a a ruthless fighter

genre: headcanons, fem! reader, kinda suggestive??, idfk just read it bro

requested: nope, but reqs are open! pls, for the love of god, request for the opla♡

feat: zoro, sanji

a/n: reader's feminine but not female if that makes sense, only witting again because I'm obsessed with the one piece live action. also, this may be a little ooc, since I haven't watched the anime/read the manga, sorry about that! also, if you wanna be added to my perm taglist, pls feel free to ask!

☆ZORO☆

when you first joined the crew, zoro was immediately unsure of what exactly you brought to the table. I mean, they already had a swordsman, a sharp shooter, a navigator, a dumb cook and a captain/motivational speaker. so what were you doing here?

from luffy's explanation of you, he was aware that you were a good fighter, but he had never seen you in action.

the only things he had seen from you were stuffed animals laying around the ship, pastel outfits he could spot for miles, and bows that had been put in his hair while he slept.

he was tolerant of you at best, and straight up apathetic at worst, but finally, there came a time where someone tried picking a fight with you since you seemed like an easy target while you were walking with him and nami.

although he wasn't particularly fond of you (lies), he still felt the need to defend you as a crewmate, but the ass whooping you gave the stranger made him freeze in place.

there was blood splatter on your pretty face, deep red sploches of your cute clothes, and a look of pure hatred in your eyes. and you had never looked more beautiful in zoros eyes.

that was the first time zoro had ever smiled at you. sure, he had slightly smirked at your cuter tendencies, but in that moment he was truly smitten with you.

from that day, zoro wanted to train with you. what you lacked that he had in experience, you made up for in absolute cruelty when fighting. you were quick, agile and you weren't afraid to make zoro hurt, and he loved every second of it.

zoro would sometimes smile when he saw bruising on his body from his time training with you but catch himself and go stone faced immediately. no, he was not falling for you, absolutely not.

except he was, and the next time you showed up by his side with a slight limp, some tears in your cotton candy coloured clothes, blood all over you, and a sadistic smile on your face, he would tell you as much.

SANJI♡

sanji is unsurprisingly, enamoured by you the second you join the straw hats.

I'm talking, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, cheesy and constant compliments like "you're cuter than any of your stuffed animals, yn-swan~" and even brushing up on his baking skills to bake you aesthetically pleasing sweet treats that always put a smile on your face.

if I'm being completely honest, it doesn't bother him that he doesn't know exactly what your strengths are, you could be amazing at everything like barbie or you could literally not know night from day and he'd still admire you all the same.

one day, you're wearing bottoms that are on the shorter side not that sanji minds at all and you're out exploring the island you're at with him by your side, holding all your bags because in his words "angels don't do hard labour when he's around" when someone decides to hit on you.

you reject them politely, but when they make a less than appropriate comment about your outfit, you click your tongue and shake your head, readying yourself to hospitalise someone.

sanji's mood switches to one of being happy because he's around you to one of murderous intent the second this rando tries you, but you already have them wheezing on the floor with broken nose before sanji can even lift his leg off of the ground.

you're back to usual self, fixing the bow on your hair while complaining about how fucking hard it is to get blood stains off of your clothes, while sanji is thinking about how fucking hard he is

safe to say that this heartless, terrifying side of you makes sanji fall even harder and question whether or not he's a masochist.

he'll still insist on doing things like carrying you anywhere (most of your shoes you impractical as fuck, but style>functionality always) lifting things for you and treating you like a piece of fine china because that's exactly what you deserve, no matter how badass you are.

only difference is, now he'll never come to aid when it comes to kicking ass, because he enjoys seeing you take people to heaven and back more than anything.

he compliments now range from "omg you are the most adorable, lovable, doll-like angel I've ever seen" to "please punch me, step on me, make my nose bleed, choke me-" and he's now ten times more annoying about you than he was before, which no one thought was possible.

believe me when I say that images of you in frilly outfits with your eyes gleaming like diamonds eveytime you make someone bleed occupy 90% of his thoughts. (the other 10% is all things cooking, of course.)

[orions-athenaeumficlibrary]

When You're Smiling- Prologue

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x F!reader

Synopsis: Throughout your life you have been labeled "boring" because of your quiet, thoughtful nature. For example, you weren't a fan of parties, frats or really anything that required you to be around big groups of people. But after being dragged to a party, you meet someone who seems determined to prove that you have an adventurous side as well.

Chapter Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, drinking, sexual harassment

Word Count: 1.5k

Prologue

“Please Y/n. You don’t even have to stay for that long.” Sitting on the floor of your apartment, you continued to track your eyes over the pages of your textbook. You weren’t really retaining any information, you hadn’t been since your roommate Wanda barged in five minutes ago and began pestering you to go to a frat party with her. 

“Seriously, a night out would be good for you. You don’t even have to talk to anyone, but at least leave this apartment. Honestly, it’s getting kinda sad that you just sit here with your books every night-” 

“OK.” You cut off her somewhat offensive rambling by roughly slamming your psychology textbook shut. “If you are so concerned about my social life I will, for forty five minutes, go to this party.” Wanda squealed and threw her arms around you. 

“Thank you, I promise once you get there you’ll have so much fun!” Your face remained neutral but inside your stomach was beginning to twist itself into a tight knot. There was a reason you didn’t really like parties, of course you wouldn’t judge your friends for going to as many as they could, they just weren't your scene. “-oh, I’m gonna call Nat, she can bring over some tops for you to try, let me grab my phone, I’ll be right back.” You didn’t realize you had zoned out long enough for Wanda to bring your other friend Natasha into the equation. When Wanda left the room you tried to distract yourself from spiraling by watching the rain dance against the window. This is “cozy romance novel reading” weather, not “get wasted with a bunch of randos” weather, you thought to yourself, but then instantly shook your head and brushed your glasses up to rub your eyes. Maybe you were in desperate need of a party. Or not. Because frat parties were the worst. The last one you were at was three years ago during your freshman year: you went in excited to try something new, and ended the night drenched in someone else’s beer, with tears running down your cheeks and mascara staining your face. You didn’t know who spilled beer on you, but the tears and mascara combination was courtesy of having to watch the guy you liked make out with not one, but three girls that night. To top it all off, one of your heels had snapped, forcing you to walk home in 30 degree weather with no shoes. So you weren’t a fan of frat parties, and maybe you shouldn’t base your judgements on one awful experience, but you had never been party type before and that night seemed like a sign from the universe confirming, “you and parties do NOT mix.” 

Wanda’s hurried footsteps interrupted the mental storm that had been picking up speed over the time she was absent. 

“Ok, Nat is on her way, and she’s bringing options for shirts, and I have this new pair of heels that would look so-” 

“No. No heels, sorry Wan.” You said somewhat sheepishly. You hadn’t known Wanda yet when you went through the frat debacle a couple years ago and for some reason you had elected to withhold that story from your two closest friends. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t brought it up, maybe you figured they would stop trying to force you to party every weekend, or maybe they would insist you give it another try. The latter is what you were afraid of, and knowing Nat and Wanda, the former was not likely to happen. 

Wanda gave you a curious look, but if she thought something was off she didn’t say anything. Instead, she ran to the door as a buzz sounded on the intercom. 

_________________________________________

An hour later, you were dressed in a long sleeved open back top, baggy jeans, and a pair of well loved (extremely dirty) shoes. Wanda and Nat practically dragged you out of your apartment and down the street, laughing and talking animatedly all while you stayed quiet and counted the yellow taxis that rushed past you.

When the three of you finally made it to the party, an inky darkness had settled over the city. The grass beneath your feet was still damp from that afternoon’s rain and you couldn’t help but frown at how humid it had become, dreading how suffocating it was going to be inside the house. 

“Do you wanna grab something to drink?” Nat yelled over the bass as you tried to squeeze through the crowded entryway. You were immediately overwhelmed, strobe lights were flashing against the walls, music was shaking the floor and hot, sweaty bodies kept bumping up against you. You closed your eyes in an attempt to somehow center yourself. After a few seconds of futilely waiting for a moment of peace, you let your eyelids flutter open and to your annoyance, Nat and Wanda were no longer standing beside you. You knew it wasn’t their fault, and that they would never intentionally leave you alone, but you couldn’t stop the panic that began rising in your chest from the absence of your two friends. Not knowing what else to do, you shouldered your way through the mass of drunk college students, searching for a quiet place to stand and look for Nat and Wanda. You had scouted out a small, unoccupied alcove under the stairs and made your way to it. Two steps and you would have gotten some reprieve from the chaos, but instead a tall body blocked your path and sharp brown eyes eyed you up and down. 

“Haven’t seen you at one of these yet.” His voice was slightly slurred and the mix of alcohol and cheap cologne pouring off of him was almost nauseating. “You lookin’ for someone to spend a little time with?” He asked inching closer and forcing you to press your back against the railing of the staircase. Now your breath was coming much too quick and the familiar numbness sprouting in your fingertips told you that you were on the verge of having a panic attack. You’d been through enough over the past years to recognize when one was coming. You also knew that if you could’t find a calm place to ground yourself in the next few minutes you were going to break down. With your mind in panic mode, you glanced over your shoulder and saw that the staircase you were pinned against led to a seemingly quiet hall. Deciding that was your only option, you shoved the guy’s chest and used his sluggish, drunken state as an opportunity to escape his grasp and head towards the stairs. You jumped over the “Stay Downstairs or Thor Will Kick Your Ass” sign that was haphazardly strung across the bottom entryway and took the stairs two at a time to get to the hall. There were no lights on in the corridor, but the strobes from the party downstairs provided you with enough light to find a doorknob. You desperately pushed on the door, but it was locked, so you ran to the next one, only to find yourself in the same situation. You didn’t notice the faint glow under the third door you tried and you almost cried in relief when the knob turned without any resistance.

You hurried into the room and closed the door, pressing your back against the cool wood and shutting your eyes. Starting at 100, you took a deep breath and exhaled counting backwards by three in your head. In your anxious state, you barely noticed the tears that were rushing down your cheeks. And you really had not noticed that you weren’t alone in this room. 

“Uh, is everything- are you ok?” A baritone voice caused your eyes to shoot open as you desperately tried to figure out its source through your blurred vision. Bringing your hands to your eyes you began to furiously wipe away the tears, ignoring the slight burning caused by the friction from your shirt against your skin. 

“Hey, whoah, hold on, you're gonna hurt yourself.” The voice said again, this time with more urgency. Suddenly, a pair of warm hands wrapped carefully around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. You were able to blink back enough tears to make out a head of blonde hair, broad shoulders, and kind blue eyes. The man in front of you continued to coax you down from your panic, and slowly the tears stopped falling while your breaths evened out. As embarrassed as you were that this kind man had to witness your anxiety attack you were grateful for his help. But just as you began to offer your thanks the door was thrown open, and a deep voice shouted over the blaring music downstairs. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing locked away in your-” his words trailed off as his cerulean blue eyes landed on your tear stained face…

Chapter One coming this week!

tags~

@vicmc624 / @sjsmith56

[orions-athenaeum]

When You're Smiling- Prologue

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x F!reader

Synopsis: Throughout your life you have been labeled "boring" because of your quiet, thoughtful attitude. For example, you weren't a fan of parties, frats or really anything that required you to be around big groups of people. But after being dragged to a party, you meet someone who seems determined to prove that you have an adventurous side as well.

Chapter Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, drinking, sexual harassment

Word Count: 1.5k

Prologue

“Please Y/n. You don’t even have to stay for that long.” Sitting on the floor of your apartment, you continued to track your eyes over the pages of your textbook. You weren’t really retaining any information, you hadn’t been since your roommate Wanda barged in five minutes ago and began pestering you to go to a frat party with her. 

“Seriously, a night out would be good for you. You don’t even have to talk to anyone, but at least leave this apartment. Honestly, it’s getting kinda sad that you just sit here with your books every night-” 

“OK.” You cut off her somewhat offensive rambling by roughly slamming your psychology textbook shut. “If you are so concerned about my social life I will, for forty five minutes, go to this party.” Wanda squealed and threw her arms around you. 

“Thank you, I promise once you get there you’ll have so much fun!” Your face remained neutral but inside your stomach was beginning to twist itself into a tight knot. There was a reason you didn’t really like parties, of course you wouldn’t judge your friends for going to as many as they could, they just weren't your scene. “-oh, I’m gonna call Nat, she can bring over some tops for you to try, let me grab my phone, I’ll be right back.” You didn’t realize you had zoned out long enough for Wanda to bring your other friend Natasha into the equation. When Wanda left the room you tried to distract yourself from spiraling by watching the rain dance against the window. This is “cozy romance novel reading” weather, not “get wasted with a bunch of randos” weather, you thought to yourself, but then instantly shook your head and brushed your glasses up to rub your eyes. Maybe you were in desperate need of a party. Or not. Because frat parties were the worst. The last one you were at was three years ago during your freshman year: you went in excited to try something new, and ended the night drenched in someone else’s beer, with tears running down your cheeks and mascara staining your face. You didn’t know who spilled beer on you, but the tears and mascara combination was courtesy of having to watch the guy you liked make out with not one, but three girls that night. To top it all off, one of your heels had snapped, forcing you to walk home in 30 degree weather with no shoes. So you weren’t a fan of frat parties, and maybe you shouldn’t base your judgements on one awful experience, but you had never been party type before and that night seemed like a sign from the universe confirming, “you and parties do NOT mix.” 

Wanda’s hurried footsteps interrupted the mental storm that had been picking up speed over the time she was absent. 

“Ok, Nat is on her way, and she’s bringing options for shirts, and I have this new pair of heels that would look so-” 

“No. No heels, sorry Wan.” You said somewhat sheepishly. You hadn’t known Wanda yet when you went through the frat debacle a couple years ago and for some reason you had elected to withhold that story from your two closest friends. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t brought it up, maybe you figured they would stop trying to force you to party every weekend, or maybe they would insist you give it another try. The latter is what you were afraid of, and knowing Nat and Wanda, the former was not likely to happen. 

Wanda gave you a curious look, but if she thought something was off she didn’t say anything. Instead, she ran to the door as a buzz sounded on the intercom. 

__________________________________________

An hour later, you were dressed in a long sleeved open back top, baggy jeans, and a pair of well loved (extremely dirty) shoes. Wanda and Nat practically dragged you out of your apartment and down the street, laughing and talking animatedly all while you stayed quiet and counted the yellow taxis that rushed past you.

When the three of you finally made it to the party, an inky darkness had settled over the city. The grass beneath your feet was still damp from that afternoon’s rain and you couldn’t help but frown at how humid it had become, dreading how suffocating it was going to be inside the house. 

“Do you wanna grab something to drink?” Nat yelled over the bass as you tried to squeeze through the crowded entryway. You were immediately overwhelmed, strobe lights were flashing against the walls, music was shaking the floor and hot, sweaty bodies kept bumping up against you. You closed your eyes in an attempt to somehow center yourself. After a few seconds of futilely waiting for a moment of peace, you let your eyelids flutter open and to your annoyance, Nat and Wanda were no longer standing beside you. You knew it wasn’t their fault, and that they would never intentionally leave you alone, but you couldn’t stop the panic that began rising in your chest from the absence of your two friends. Not knowing what else to do, you shouldered your way through the mass of drunk college students, searching for a quiet place to stand and look for Nat and Wanda. You had scouted out a small, unoccupied alcove under the stairs and made your way to it. Two steps and you would have gotten some reprieve from the chaos, but instead a tall body blocked your path and sharp brown eyes eyed you up and down. 

“Haven’t seen you at one of these yet.” His voice was slightly slurred and the mix of alcohol and cheap cologne pouring off of him was almost nauseating. “You lookin’ for someone to spend a little time with?” He asked inching closer and forcing you to press your back against the railing of the staircase. Now your breath was coming much too quick and the familiar numbness sprouting in your fingertips told you that you were on the verge of having a panic attack. You’d been through enough over the past years to recognize when one was coming. You also knew that if you could’t find a calm place to ground yourself in the next few minutes you were going to break down. With your mind in panic mode, you glanced over your shoulder and saw that the staircase you were pinned against led to a seemingly quiet hall. Deciding that was your only option, you shoved the guy’s chest and used his sluggish, drunken state as an opportunity to escape his grasp and head towards the stairs. You jumped over the “Stay Downstairs or Thor Will Kick Your Ass” sign that was haphazardly strung across the bottom entryway and took the stairs two at a time to get to the hall. There were no lights on in the corridor, but the strobes from the party downstairs provided you with enough light to find a doorknob. You desperately pushed on the door, but it was locked, so you ran to the next one, only to find yourself in the same situation. You didn’t notice the faint glow under the third door you tried and you almost cried in relief when the knob turned without any resistance.

You hurried into the room and closed the door, pressing your back against the cool wood and shutting your eyes. Starting at 100, you took a deep breath and exhaled counting backwards by three in your head. In your anxious state, you barely noticed the tears that were rushing down your cheeks. And you really had not noticed that you weren’t alone in this room. 

“Uh, is everything- are you ok?” A baritone voice caused your eyes to shoot open as you desperately tried to figure out its source through your blurred vision. Bringing your hands to your eyes you began to furiously wipe away the tears, ignoring the slight burning caused by the friction from your shirt against your skin. 

“Hey, whoah, hold on, you're gonna hurt yourself.” The voice said again, this time with more urgency. Suddenly, a pair of warm hands wrapped carefully around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. You were able to blink back enough tears to make out a head of blonde hair, broad shoulders, and kind eyes. The man in front of you continued to coax you down from your panic, and slowly the tears stopped falling as your breaths evened out. As embarrassed as you were that this saint of a man had to witness your anxiety attack you were grateful for his help. But just as you began to offer your thanks the door was thrown open, and a new, deep voice shouted over the blaring music downstairs. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing locked away in your-” his words trailed off as his steel blue eyes landed on your tear stained face…

Chapter One coming this week!

[piemaker93]

Platonic Stobin just being completely truthful about what they’ve gone through. NDAs being lowkey ignored as they make inside jokes about their *trauma*

They don’t care for 2 reasons

1 - why would they listen to the government? The government sucks, they experiment on little kids in secret labs and cover up people dying and basically are the root cause of all this bullshit / their trauma to begin with!

And

2 - no one will believe them or take it seriously

Like hear me out, let’s say they decide to learn Russian after starcourt to try and like conquer their fears or something. And some random person asks them why they know Russian and their response is just

Robin: oh! When we were 18/19 we were trapped in the secret Russian bunker under the mall and tortured.

Steve: so we decided to take back control or whatever…it’s therapeutic or something

Stobin: *laughs*

Rando: *awkwardly chuckles along* okay keep your secrets

Like in what world would a normal person believe that these teenagers have been tortured!

Basically just Stobin coming off as a little unhinged with their jokes to cope and not really hiding the cause of their trauma cause no one will take it seriously anyways.

Bonus for Eddie / Billy / Vickie / Chrissy or whoever you ship either of them with being out of the loop and witnessing all these jokes. Just brushing them off as Stobin having a weird sense of humor.

Then when they do get brought into the loop either reacting with the realization of all those jokes being kinda serious / everything just clicking into place.

I have more thoughts on unhinged Stobin using humor to cope about all the shit they’ve been thru but I’ll leave it here

TL;DR just platonic Stobin being real nonchalant about those NDAs as they make jokes to cope with their trauma.

[tea-kitten]

hey there! Hope you are well. Since you seem very knowledgeable about cat breeding, i was wondering if you could share your thoughts on ethical issues with breeding. Some common points; is it really ethical to create more animals for profit? Shouldn’t people be adopting from overcrowded shelters instead of shopping for designer cats? Pregnancy is a great physiological strain to any animal, why is it ok to purposely put animals through this repeatedly for human gain? Thanks for your time :)

I am going to pretend that this is not an obvious attempt to start some weird adopt-don't-shop disk horse in a rando's DMs and answer your questions in good faith. I will also be focusing on what I am familiar with, which is cats. There are many parallels between purebreeding of dogs and cats, but there are also many differences - because they're completely different animals with completely different histories when it comes to selective breeding practices.

Most ethical breeders struggle to break even after you factor in money spent on healthcare/screening for the queen/stud, healthcare/screening for the kittens, and the expense of showing - which is nearly a necessity if your goal is to produce cats that conform to the breed standard. If you're in the community with the intention of turning a profit, you probably should not be breeding animals - especially not cats. You will probably also not find a mentor willing to give you an intact cat to start with, because the first thing they're going to tell you is that you are not going to make money. If you are a prospective buyer, you 100% need to be vetting the breeders you are researching to make sure that their goal is to produce healthy, happy, and typey kittens and not to get rich.

So why do they do it if not to make money? Because they want to preserve or improve on their vision of the breed. They want to produce animals that enrich the lives of other people, as those animals have already enriched their own. Using the devon rex as an example, many breeders and owners of this breed are involved with them because they're allergic to cats and the devon is one of the only breeds they can safely own.

Ethical cat breeders do not, as a general rule, contribute to overcrowding in animal shelters. People who fail to take responsibility for their animals' reproductive potential contribute to overcrowding in animal shelters. Every ethical breeder I have ever interacted with has an unconditional return policy - that means that if I suddenly found myself unable to provide a home for my 14 year old devon, Vi, the contract I signed when I bought him requires that I make heroic efforts to return him to his breeder in Michigan rather than dump him in a shelter down here in Texas. Every ethical breeder I have ever interacted with would not relinquish an intact kitten to a buyer unless that buyer was an established breeder in their own right or a mentee working directly with the breeder under close tutelage to start their own cattery. Most ethical breeders these days require their kittens to be chipped; some go to the extent that they will not allow their own microchip data to be replaced with yours, so their information will be available in case the cat is ever picked up as a stray. My aunt, who breeds devons, coordinates rescue operations that identify every devon, suspected devon, or devon mix that shows up on shelter websites and get them adopted or placed in foster care by a local devon lover as soon as the hold period is over. From my experience, this is a standard practice in basically all cat breed circles I've brushed up against, and it's pretty common in dog fancy groups as well.

But wait, you ask, doesn't someone buying a purebred kitten from an ethical breeder contribute to overcrowding by removing them as a potential adopter of a shelter cat? Mmmmm not really. Some people are happy to adopt shelter cats AND buy purebreds. Some people only adopt. Some people only buy purebreds. If they would only ever buy a purebred, then buying a purebred would not remove them from a list of hypothetical potential adopters. Someone who is allergic to cats can't just adopt a cat from a shelter; they have to find a hypoallergenic breed and then meet representatives of that breed to confirm they won't react to it. Someone who has small children, special needs, or small children with special needs may not be able to just adopt a cat from a shelter; they need to know that the cat they bring into their home will be safe there, and that the cat will be safe for the home as well. When you adopt a shelter cat, you have zero idea what its general temperament will be, or whether you are adopting an animal with severe and potentially debilitating trauma history. Its medical history before the intake date will be unknown, its congenital health risks will be unknown. When you buy a kitten from an ethical breeder, you know it has been carefully socialized and acclimated to a normal home environment and the breeder will be able to tell you some basic things about its temperament, including whether it will be shy or outgoing, on top of characteristics that are common in the breed.

Lastly, pregnancy is a dangerous and difficult thing for all animals to go through. All cats in animal shelters were also produced by a cat becoming pregnant. The difference between a cat breeding under the supervision of an ethical breeder and a cat breeding because its irresponsible owner let it hunt the local wildlife while intact or just thinks kittens are cute is that I guarantee you the purebred cat is getting proper prenatal and postnatal care and nutrition, and the kittens will be kept in a safe and loving environment until they are purchased by a buyer that has been thoroughly vetted by the breeder. Also, if we ceased to "put cats through pregnancy for human gain" we would cease to have pet cats that have been produced with the health and ethical treatment of those cats in mind.

If you want to adopt a shelter cat, awesome! I have owned and loved some amazing rescues in my life. Do your research to make sure that the issues that your cat might have when you bring it home are issues you can manage. If you want to buy a purebred, awesome! Do your research to make sure the breeder you work with is doing so ethically, and get suspicious of them if they aren't researching you right back. Make sure the breed you want really is a good fit for your lifestyle, because an animal is not an accessory. ---

TL;DR VERSION: - Breeding purebred cats is, generally speaking, a horrible way to make money if you care about the welfare of your animals and the betterment of the breed. - Ethical breeders making purebred animals does not contribute to overcrowding in shelters; irresponsible pet ownership does. - Most purebred animals either never end up in a shelter because a cat that can no longer stay with its owner is contractually required to be returned to its breeder for rehoming, or do not stay for long because breed fancier groups of all stripes keep an eye out for their favored breeds and get them out as soon as they show up. - 1 purebred animal produced does not necessarily equate to 1 animal in a shelter not finding a home. Many people who will buy purebreds either cannot or will not ever adopt a shelter pet and that is not a moral failing on their part. - "Pregnancy is a great physiological strain on any animal" is a description of a biological process, not a means of bolstering arguments in an exploration of whether to adopt or purchase an animal. However, if an organism is going to be put through the great physical strain of pregnancy, I would prefer that organism to be kept warm, healthy, well-fed, and given full access to medical care throughout the process overseen by someone who has a lot of experience.

If you have a problem with your local pet shelter being overcrowded, consider volunteering, establishing a foster network, donating time/money to local rescues/neuter drives/etc, or getting politically active to increase the availability of local resources.

[esther-dot]

GRRM constantly remind us that Sansa’s breasts are growing and/or are “large” for her age, do you think there’s a reason for that or he’s just a tits man and a weirdo?

Y’all always have such nice things to say about this man. 😂

As much as we're all fans of his work and can offer lots of rationalizations, these questionable choices in his writing are mirrored with weird statements in interviews (link), so I'd say, no matter the explanations we have for specific lines, this is an area in which Martin has not earned our blind trust.

I'm all about “charitable readings”, I offer that to my anons, fellow bloggers, and of course, any author I encounter, so I will offer a bit of that below, but I thought @aegor-bamfsteel's post about the oversexualization of the girls was very good (link), and even when I offer a literary explanation for his choices (as I did here for Dany), that's not to minimize how disturbing I find them. I don't like it at all.

Now! There are a few things that are part of the explanation for this beyond being a boob guy.

Sometimes it's simply part of communicating that Sansa is growing

Sansa tried to hurry, but her fingers fumbled at buttons and knots. The Hound was always rough-tongued, but something in the way he had looked at her filled her with dread. Had Joffrey found out about her meetings with Ser Dontos? Please no, she thought as she brushed out her hair. Ser Dontos was her only hope. I have to look pretty, Joff likes me to look pretty, he's always liked me in this gown, this color. She smoothed the cloth down. The fabric was tight across her chest. (ACOK, Sansa III)

Sansa lifted her arm. She needed a new gown, that was true. She had grown three inches in the past year, and most of her old wardrobe had been ruined by the smoke when she'd tried to burn her mattress on the day of her first flowering "Your bosom will be as lovely as the queen's," the old woman said as she looped her string around Sansa's chest. "You should not hide it so." The comment made her blush. Yet the last time she'd gone riding, she could not lace her jerkin all the way to the top, and the stableboy gaped at her as he helped her mount. Sometimes she caught grown men looking at her chest as well, and some of her tunics were so tight she could scarce breathe in them. (ASOS, Sansa II)

Martin has mentioned talking to women about their first period and tried to incorporate that into writing Sansa's, so I'm sure he also knows how many of us experience unwanted attention around that age too. Therefore, I'm gonna assume to him, this is all part of the female experience and he included it for realism.

2. Sansa is surrounded by pervs. Not only do we have the above with randos, but from early on LF and the Hound sink their teeth in and then of course, Tyrion, and we have Joffrey ordering Sansa beaten/stripped, basically, we have a huge portion of her story just drowning in men who lust after her/molest her, demean her. So, we're gonna talk about her beauty (her body, her breasts…) as part of that. Now, I've suggested having so many adult men lust after her is overkill and a little variety in their perversions would have been a relief, but that was the choice and these are the results.

3. Stumpy has discussed how this is all foreshadowing for Sansa becoming a mother at a young age ie he’s emphasizing her physical maturity and rushing it a bit to prep for what is to come (AFFC Foreshadowing, ASOS Foreshadowing). So potentially, not needless perving, prepping for a future plot. That might horrify you as much or more than him just liking to write about boobs, but Martin has repeatedly stated his belief that in medieval times, as soon as you hit puberty you were eligible for marriage. Even with that belief, a different writer might be a little more…delicate, but Martin likes to lean into the physical reality of his story, it’s part of what makes it compelling, so the guy who writes shitting and vomiting and oddly unerotic sex scenes for the sake of immersion, getting descriptions of these poor girls may just be part of the ride.

4. Sansa is very clearly "the Maiden," (link) but we've had several chapters now where she is also getting “the mother” idea attached to her in a kinda, Virgin Mary reference. @minitafan explained that here, with her foil being Dany (here). That doesn't mean we need details about her breasts, but because of what she represents, a manifestation of peace, calm in the midst of battle, compassion for our enemies, it makes sense to me that Martin would opt to make her physically beautiful too (hence descriptions of her body). She is meant to be someone others are drawn to, even men who seem impervious. It's a bit of a funny little game in which Martin unravels Sansa's expectation that beauty=goodness, all the while showing us, Sansa is that beautiful, inside and out.

My conclusion about most things ASOIAF, its complicated, and I’d say, it’s probably a mixture of everything.

[an-aura-about-you]

you know what makes the work day better? suffering beforehand! is there anything that could happen to me on the clock that could be worse than Handbook for Mortals?

(not worse than reading Handbook for Mortals, mind. as awful as this is and as pissed off as I'm getting about how the book treats Sofia, I am enjoying the actual act of reading and documenting this. I knew belligerence for fun was a thing, but I didn't think it was a thing I was capable of.)

anyway, Handbook for Mortals Chapter 5 time:

when we last left our hero, Scheherazade just saved Sofia's life by pushing her into a pool instead of using her magic to save her. remember how I said the magic is here the way coffee is present in a coffee shop au? this is exactly the sort of thing I mean. and nobody gives a shit that Sofia nearly died and fully intend to blame the entire incident on her even though there should be at least two other people on the hook for the blame.

also, this happened due to some kind of glitch that set the platform off spinning when it wasn't supposed to. I don't think this glitch is ever explained, but what if it's a Dresden Files thing where some technology just doesn't get along well with Zade? if that's the case, then the notion that this is Zade's fault is actually true. but even if it's not, it does feel telling that this glitch that nearly resulted in someone's death is such a minor part of the story that I don't trust it's going to be resolved in any manner.

anyway, Chapter 5: The Emperor

-we're actually starting this chapter with an italics segment. something I hadn't mentioned about these is that Handbook for Mortals uses the triple moon symbol everywhere, in particular before these segments start. so the chapter actually starts with the triple moon symbol right after the chapter title. it's weird.

-Zade is still here to explain things, though, like how Vegas shows don't take traditional weekends. I mean, idk, maybe it's because I'm older and have had a number of jobs where I had to work weekends, but it seems like the population of people who regularly get Saturdays and Sundays off from work is just not enough to merit this explanation. and I'm saying that as someone who DOES have a traditional weekend with my current job!

-we once again have some unusual word choice as Zade describes her profession "this so-called 'entertainment business.'" you realize that sounds like either someone who thinks very little of what you're doing as a career or someone being evasive about their job as a stripper or a porn star, right? and lbr, I would find a stripper or a porn star more respectable than anything Zade is doing. at least they come by their work honestly.

-anyway it's night after Sofia's brush with death and we're at a birthday party at a bar. Mac is off sitting by himself drinking a beer and thinking about Zade because the narrative can't honestly bring itself to care about the rando having the birthday.

-Sofia is here too some 24ish hours after falling 50 feet into a pool and literally drowning, and she is bringing a beer to the technical director who watched all of this happen while he was on the clock and did nothing about it.

-I stand by what I hypothesized before. Sofia is a witch who's unaware of her powers so far. they were awakened due to Zade's proximity and right now that energy is focused on her healing.

-"That was quite the spill you took last night," Mac says about Sofia's near death experience.

-Sofia herself glosses over what happened by saying she's a quick healer with good genes. I'm telling y'all, witch. but also possibly PTSD. most likely PTSD.

-Charles isn't here by the way. Sofia went to this event without him. his girlfriend nearly died yesterday and apparently he also doesn't give a fuck. I wonder if Sofia came to the bar because she knew about Drew's birthday and didn't want to be alone considering how much everyone she works with does their best to not be around her. she and Mac have some back and forth about how Charles doesn't do birthday parties, but Charles couldn't even suck it up enough to be there for his girlfriend who nearly died yesterday? weak.

-Mac tells Sofia that Charles doesn't know how to do real social events and says the comment goes over her head, but Mac is the one who was sitting alone at a birthday party until Sofia came up to join him. between the two of you, Sofia has the better grasp of how to mingle at a party.

-though tbh if you put me in Sofia's shoes then the whole reason I would be sitting at the table with another beer for Mac would be, "If I get him drunk enough he won't be able to do anything when I go to pummel him with a bar chair." oh hypocrite me, I too have a violent streak.

-seriously, Sofia's here flirting with Mac and I don't understand the motivation behind it UNLESS she's doing it for revenge purposes. Mac points out she's taken, but that's worth a whole bunch of nothing if Charles doesn't care that his girlfriend nearly died yesterday.

-omg Mac straight up does the bit like in The Room when Mark tells Lisa she's beautiful but they can't sleep with each other anymore. (they then proceed to sleep with each other for the rest of the movie.) this is what we're doing, we're trying to make Sofia into Lisa from The Room. and I can't believe I'm saying this, but Sofia isn't even as bad as Lisa. yes, Sofia is flirting with Mac, but we don't have any evidence that she's slept with anyone besides Charles AND their relationship isn't as serious as Johnny and Lisa's was in The Room seeing as they were engaged.

-"Would it make a difference if I was single?" ok, whether Sarem meant to do this or not, this indicates to me that Charles and Sofia are broken up in all ways except officially.

-also Mac's rejection makes it sound like he's only interested in dating for long term relationships. that does fit with what we learn later, but has nobody in this book ever heard of dating for fun? you're allowed to just have fun y'know.

-saying that also reminded me of Gone with the Wind, specifically Rhett floating the idea to Scarlett that it's actually possible to get married for fun and she could try that for a change. there's also the reference to Gone with the Wind earlier in the book leading to me having this tangent. it's possible that Sarem is trying to establish a relationship similar to that of Scarlett and Melanie's with Sofia in the Scarlett role, but that doesn't work because Zade is nothing like Melanie. NONE of the characters in this book are anything like Melanie.

-I want to take a second and point out that Drew's birthday cake gets more description about what it looks like than Sofia does.

-back to Zade at work and she takes a moment to mention the theater is kept at 90 degrees. that just sounds awful. I would not be going to this Vegas show, especially not if it's a full house as it's specified earlier the theater can seat an audience of 2,000. god, can you imagine the sweat and body odor?

-also we've apparently skipped ahead a few weeks. Zade and Mac are no longer in the enemies stage of their relationship (which I will remind you consisted of only one spat, one and a half if we're counting Mac getting pissed off about Zade trying to tell him about her premonition in the last chapter) but rather in the budding friendship/burgeoning lovers part. so instead of getting a nice build of their relationship, it's more like we're on a cooking show and Sarem has set the prep aside to pull out the finished dish she made ahead of time.

-for someone who doesn't mind tossing name brands in here left and right with proper capitalization, it seems weird that Sarem forgot to capitalize the candy Red Vines.

-Zade also brings up that Mac stopped asking about her trick again. like, we know this. he said he was going to stop in the last chapter. YOU'RE the one who keeps harping on and on about your own stupidity in this matter.

-this whole scene exists so Mac can invite Zade to the next company camping trip and have awkward flirty times by the way.

-we've also had a few reminders that Mac doesn't date performers as a rule. we'll get more information on that later, but it seems kind of arbitrary. I mean, I know what happens because again, not going in blind, but it seems like that should just be "doesn't date coworkers" given the circumstances. if he doesn't date performers, does that mean Beth the lady who works as Spellman's assistant from back in Chapter 1 has a chance?

the chapter ends with another italics scene that was just Tad teasing Mac about liking Zade. bleh.

[salamifuposey]

Rando slammo drawing of Lady Miriam (this was actually first time trying watercolour pencil but it didn't exactly come out as I had hoped because I was also experimenting using a water brush)

lots of mistakes due to no pencil sketch at first

[desidarling123]

If you haven't read this expose already, please do, because it's NUTS.

TLDR; Hasan Minhaj admitted to fully just. Lying. About things that, until recently, he posited as things that actually happened to him.

Some of the craziest excerpts from this article (imo)

But was his invention of a traumatic experience with his child or with law-enforcement entrapment distasteful, given the moral heft of those things, and the fact that other people have actually experienced them? “It’s grounded in truth,” Minhaj said. “But it didn’t happen to you,” I replied.

Dude. DUDE. What the fuck?!?!

There’s a palpable discomfort among comedians when they are asked to comment on another person’s art—a sort of code of omertà. But a number of writers and performers who spoke with me bristled at Minhaj’s moralizing posture. “He tonally presents himself as a person who was always taking down the despots and dictators of the world and always speaking truth to power,” one former “Patriot Act” employee said. “That’s grating.”

Yeah, this always drove me crazy about his style, but now coupled with the truth that he's been making half his shit up? Fucking insidious.

“If he’s lying about real people and real events, that’s a problem,” the writer said. “So much of the appeal of those stories is ‘This really happened.’ ”

Exactly. Hasan's whole claim to fame is being a "truth-teller" so discovering how much of his stories are lies... yikes!

Many stories on the cancellation also mentioned a series of tweets from former female employees of color alluding to their poor work experience behind the scenes. A document reviewed by The New Yorker revealed that three women had hired an attorney and threatened litigation against Netflix and “Patriot Act” ’s production company, alleging gender discrimination, sex-based harassment, and retaliation.

I remember when these came out. My IRL acquaintances did not really believe it, but I definitely felt odd about it. No smoke without fire...

Oh, and this ending fucking FLOORED ME.

When we spoke, I asked, were he to get “The Daily Show” hosting job, if his fabrications could put him in a compromised position when commenting on someone such as George Santos. Minhaj brushed the question off. “I think, when George Santos says he’s on the volleyball team, it’s a pointless story,” he responded. Minhaj’s “fiction” was always in service to a bigger point, putting him in a different moral category than Santos. He appeared unwilling to engage with the idea that his position in the comedic landscape is unique, or that the host of a comedy news show might be held to more stringent standards of accuracy across his body of work. When it came to his stage shows, he told me, “the emotional truth is first. The factual truth is secondary.” ♦

What a bunch of word scramble to justify.... not telling the truth? "Emotional truth", what a load of garbage. It's fucking identical to the same concept "Alternative Facts" the Far-Right was pushing so hard on us just years ago.

As a POC I find this especially rankling because we fight so hard for our stories to be heard... only for some fucking rando to not just co-opt those experiences and traumas, but fully... make them up? And claim them as his own? For clout?!?!?

What a mess. Unlikely to hurt his career (unfortunately) but goddamn.

[orinew]

I’m out here trying to speed run all these quests I’ve got on my list but I forgot I left the looooong ones left.

Have I done the Fontaine story quest since it came out? Nope.

Is that a crime? Maybe. ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

(TBH, the bigger crime would be that I’ve been playing since 1.0 and I’m still not even AR 60 ;_; )

[ovyy-pvcure]

I've been left under stimulated again so even though the post didn't reach enough notes I'll still post the writing critique but I won't tag it. @furudolove was too curious and I'm too attached to the itch of the compliant to leave it unaddressed.

Ok, so background: the protagonist of the work in question is isekai'd to a fantastical game-like world with 3 other randos who are of no significance to this post. Our protagonist meets someone who agrees to be his teammate since due to the rules and restrictions of the (game) world he's found himself in can't meaningfully do damage (and the prior person who held his position gave it a bad name by terrorizing the kingdom [for all that slavery they were doing] so he's hard up for options). This person then gets the protagonist drunk steals his stuff and makes...claims against him. Brushing quickly past how I feel about that development our protagonist is left penniless lacking in allies and basicially helpless until he's approached by a slaver and decides to buy a 10 year old girl to fight for him since slaves can't lie to their master...because of magicial shock tattoos. Because our protagonist has lost his faith in others unless he can magicially compel their obedience (I mean he takes the nice male slave owner at his word but whatever) and this is NOT my compliant. This is clearly set up to be the protagonist's flaws making decisions that he knows are wrong, but gives in to due to weakness.

Earlier I said the fantasy world our protagonist got transported to is game-like and the important parts for understanding where I'm going with this is: this world has explicit exp, levels, upgrading weapons oh and when the race of people that little girl is levels up they physically mature. Like a pokemon except it's a shivering malnourished child who's obidence is kept via constant threat of inescapable electric torture. Look, I agreed not to complain about the protagonist owning a slave thing on the face of it I'm not here to downplay it.

All that background out of the way and with the understanding that slavery is morally wrong and the protagonist's growth should be measured by his ability to place trust in people without needing to hold all of the power and the author does the worst thing possible for the narrative: textual justification of slavery in-universe. Specifically the existence of Slave Experience and The Slave Shield which both give notable consistent passive boons to uhhh...human property. This singular writing choice in my mind entirely undercuts any defence of the series as it serves to entrench both the protagonist and the fanbase to defend slavery.

This is not a hypothetical either there are many online discussions where fans of the series will point out that these boons are why the protagonist needs to keep his slaves, and keep feeding and being a positive face. To. Slavery. To the machine of the slave trade. Worse, it means the protagonist not only doesn't have to cooperate with other independent individuals but only on his group of literal slaves for which he's rewarded his growth as a person in the narrative be damned.

Slavery was either never going to be an issue the author wanted to tackle or it became the series' "gimmick" as a "dark subversive isekai" and got stapled to it forever and so it got justified. Celeberated. Benefical actually to the slaves who grow up overnight to be nubile women who the protagonist personally raised just how he wanted before marrying her in the end. Just be a Good Slave Owner and reap endless benefits as the world distorts to justify your obsessive controlling misanthropy lest the teenage boys projecting onto the protagonist think they need to grow the fuck up and trust another person.

[aerospectrum]

3 rando headcanons for 3 rando characters if you have time 😚

ooooh this is a cool ask thank yoooou!!!🩵🐢 hmm let me thiiiiink

cas: 1]I think castiel is afraid of spiders, something about the way they creep and crawl and dangle around. he thinks their webs are intricate and beautiful but he’s really afraid of the actual spider lol.

2]castiel rebelled during the plagues of Egypt by saving as many first born sons as he could that didn’t have lambs blood on their doors and was dragged back to heaven to be reset but not before he was punished severely so now he has issues with authorities and that’s what makes him so stubborn in his thought process of just because you claim to be good it doesn't make you right!

3]cas has an energy field around his grace that makes plants and trees and vines grow wild, when he decides to start gardening he sits in the fields all day watching his crops grow; he makes his own jams and jellies for his friends too with the harvests. when he comes to the bunker Dean gets annoyed when the vines grow thick over the doors and he has to machete his way out. Sam uses him for his herbology needs when he starts learning spell work lol.

jamie: 1]jamie can’t swim, he nearly drowned as a kid in the river and he’s terrified of that happening again, but he will never admit it so when he’s invited anywhere near big spaces of water he goes in just till the waters at his knees but never further so nobody ever suspects anything.

2]Jamie’s birthday was often overshadowed by his younger sister or brushed off by his parents as he grew up. he won’t tell anyone when he was born because he doesn’t want to relive the feeling of being forgotten and if by chance someone does figure it out or just celebrates him he has a hard time not breaking down because he feels undeserving of the love/attention. he likes chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting and blue sprinkles they’re fun!

3]Jamie loves ice cream but his favorite that he likes is “grape bubblegum” ice cream with nerds candy sprinkled on top. He learned how to make homemade flavors and always keeps it stocked and hidden in his freezer. But he always gets plain vanilla with others to appear “sophisticated”.

Timmy: 1]once Tim became an adult he built a treehouse replica of the “car” he was stuck in as a kid when he visited the ill-fated jurassic park in a massive tree in his backyard. he sits in there for hours when he’s overwhelmed or panicking about things or when he misses his siblings.

2]Tim makes Tupperware containers of Jello for Lex every year to make up for the raptors in the kitchen fiasco; she hates jello but she always eats some for Tim just to make him happy.

3]As a way to avoid scrutiny or prying minds that want to exploit his experience when people learn who Tim is and start to ask him about Jurassic Park and what happened there he makes up really mundane stories that aren’t satisfying to hear or he pretends he has no idea what they’re talking about until they give up and leave him alone.

[chaos0pikachu]

Top has gotten the shortest end of the stick of all the characters. (Imo) He seems like a plot tool for Mew’s development, not a real person. I thought they would delve deeper into the insomnia but they have not. They brushed over him doing coke so quick as well. That’s literally the only interesting nuggets we have about him. We don’t know about his family life either. It’s hard to feel sympathy or connect with his character at this point when motivations are still so unclear. So Jojo shouldn’t be surprised that he’s so ‘hated’.

I wish he was hated because he's under-developed but I think him and Boston (who also has a lack of nuance issue in the narrative) are hated b/c they had non-monogamous sex. Which the crew (not just Jojo, I'ma call them JNBD for Jojo, Ninew, Best and Den lol) must've realized too b/c they specifically cut a scene where Top was gonna have sex w a rando and cry about it.

Know, that's unfair, I think both factors can be true at the same time. I think some people are struggling to connect with Top b/c like you said, he feels more like a plot device for Mew's character than his own individual character with their own motivations. AND I think it's because he had sex with other people who were not Mew. Because Forcebook is a branded couple and I saw those stans on twitter wildin out.

I think one factor is valid - him being under developed makes it hard to the audience to connect with him as a char - and the is not - who fucking cares if Top, the fictional char slept with someone not Mew they are not Force and Book jfc.

I think it says a lot about the state of the type of hate Top is getting that JNBD are seeing that the scene they cut was a sex scene specifically. Only now that it's gotten to the point of being outright undeniable are people even a bit more sympathetic to Boston. But like, I saw people calling Boston a predator and a rapist like, 3 episodes ago lol and rooting for Mew to share the revenge porn of Boston with his father.

Obviously this is not the entire~~~ fandom but suffice to say fandom hasn't been actually all that understanding of slutty (or really, non-monogamous behavior, y'all know being poly isn't like, an ao3 trope right? boston isn't "self-harming" himself by sleeping around he just...enjoys sleeping around? but the show has been kinda regressive in terms of poly/open relationships anyway they tease at threesomes but never follow through. At this point it feels like a meta joke, lol look at ray saying him and sand should have a threesome don't worry firstkhao fans we're just teasing they're true love fr!)

I think a big factor is fans have to strong a para-social relationship with Force and Book along with First and Khao (like holy shit y'all calm down about these two). So Top sleeping with Boston was seen as a "threat" to the endgame of their ship which should be TopMew but is actually ForceBook (don't even try with me SandRay had like 100 fics before the show even aired, and so did Top and Mew).

I spoke to a friend about this, they don't watch BL themselves but they said it sounded like part of the appeal specifically with branded couples is viewers know going in their ship "wins" they are endgame, there's a low-risk factor involved so it's easy to buy in. And I think they're right tbh I don't follow branded couples because, well frankly I don't care much, so I wasn't expecting this level of fandom bias nor the existence of the branded couples interring actively with the narrative itself. It was a very new experience for me and I think I'll just pass on gmmtv shows in the future.

I don't mind knowing where a story is going, I've watched plenty of romcoms, I'm not in this shit for plot twists, but if the journey really pushes the couple shouldn't be together and I know they'll end up together anyway well then I'm annoying lol

I think it's a shame that Top is gonna end up with Mew. I don't think they fit well together, the narrative hasn't shown me that they work or even could work long term. They have all the chemistry - to me - of white sauce casserole Carol brought to my cookout and only added some pepper for flavor. But narratively, what does Top even want? Why does he want to be with Mew? Because he opened up ONCE to Mew? We never even saw his perspective of their dating life just him giving up drugs in exchange for sex which chepie that was NOT romantic to me.

I'd love a fic that explored Top more as an individual char, why him and Mew don't actually work b/c Top's trying to contort himself into someone else because he's clinging to the sense of security Mew gave him. But what else is there to their relationship? Really? Maybe Top is actually aromantic or maybe he just enjoys being un-committed but feels pressured by society to do so, to "settle down".

There's potential there to explore that I hope fandom does but either way don't bring casserole to my cookout ever again gmmtv

[shallowstories]

Dean vs 8PackMommy

From November 2022, reposting for compilation and editing purposes.

(En media res) Dean is attending an influencer event, attempting to butter up the socialite otherwise known as 8PackMommy. Cas arrives:

///

When 8PackMommy meets Cas, Dean doesn’t know what he’d been expecting from her, but it certainly wasn’t this blasé,who-cares attitude.

She’s not, like, moved by him at all. Worse, she thinks he’s shabby. Washed up. definitely not influencer material. She doesn’t say it outright, but Dean gets the message loud and clear.

And it’s not like they’re angling to get Cas an in or anything. (He’s here as a journalist.) But bare minimum, objectively, she should view Cas as a diamond in the rough.

Sure, he’s not a good dresser, and maybe he forgets to brush his hair sometimes, but the fact that he doesn’t care about all that (for the most part) is kind of appealing, too. An influencer who specializes in recruitment should be able to recognize baseline appeal.

Dean’s used to Cas impressing people. His mom, Charlie, rando hunters, Men-of-Letter agents, minimum-wage waitresses—you know—people. It sends an unpleasant jolt up his spine that she’s so…lukewarm.

///

When Cas shuffles over to mock-interview him, Dean wants to reach up and mess with his hair. Dean had finally trained him how to style it after all these years, and he doesn’t bother on the one day he really should. He sticks out like a sore thumb against all these plastic zoomers with airbrushed muscles.

Cas has an oversized bag full of something Dean isn’t in the know about.

“I thought you were here as a journalist.”

Cas whispers, “Rowena thought this was better. It’s…artisan coffee. She even had it, uhm, branded.”

Dean reaches forward and twines his fingers around the gift bag handle, his knuckles brushing against Cas’s fingers. “No shit? Hey, it’s heavy…what do you have in here, rocks?”

“No, Dean. It’s three different blends. “Sam told me ‘home’ was the brand look and feel.”

Sure enough, there are about 12 bundles of carefully designed packages.

“I told Sam to figure something out, but man. Anyone here look homey to you? These kids are hokey voodoo woodoo. We’d be better off pretending to sell kale chips.”

Cas’s eyes grow warmer, and he flicks his eyes down to Dean’s shirt. “You do.”

Whatever words Dean’d been thinking of die on his tongue.

“The idea,” Cas whispers leaning far too close, “is to intrigue 8PackMommy. She sells the concept of ‘being a mom,’ but her social media looks, as you said, very Stepford. This will ‘niggle at her brain,’ according to Rowena.”

“Tch. Well, good luck making that bitch-perfect little Mary Poppins feel insecure.”

Cas pulls out a spreadsheet that Sam had prepared for him. It’s got a listing of all the coffees and some estimates for…travel expenses?

“The pitch isn’t just to give out products, Dean. It’s to fly the family to a company-paid, week-long vacation to use the product and create ‘homey’ content,” he rumbles confidently.

Sounds pretty damn nice. And a sure-fire way to get her isolated to see how she’s connected to her missing husband.

“That near Donna’s place?”

“That’s the idea. There are three cabins for pretense, yes. You’ll be in one of them, of course.”

Cas raises his voice suddenly and pulls out a black book. “I think you’ll be a perfect fit, Mr. Singer. Of course we can talk travel details later.”

8Pack is hovering nearby, like the whiff of money is a homing beacon.

Dean scoffs, playing along. “A week in the friggin’ mountains? Sweet! Y’all aren’t greedy with the amenities!”

Dean sees her flip her hair and smooth her Bohemian skirt before sauntering over. “Well, hello,” she greets, practically elbowing Dean out of the way.

“Hello, Cas says blankly. “We met earlier.”

She looks vaguely embarrassed. “Oh. I’m sorry if I was rude. I tend to get a little frazzled at these events, even with all my experience.”

Sure. Frazzled.

“I’m Carl Karamatov,” Cas says. “Not easy to remember.”

She sways closer to him, then swivels her eyes curiously to the bag Dean is holding. “Artisan coffee? Better be beans.”

“Nothin’ wrong with ground,” Dean says gruffly.

“And who’re you again?” she lilts, bringing a perfectly manicured hand up to a jutting hip.

Dean bristles. He’s already introduced himself to her six times. Without waiting for a response, she wrenches the bag from his hand and shrewdly inspects the merchandise.

“Not to tell you how to run your brand,” her eyes fall judgmentally on Dean before going back to Cas, “But scouting for talent is actually my specialty when I’m not promoting my own brand. You’ve probably heard of it: 8PackMommy? I specialize in cheating The Life so moms everywhere can have it all and look good doing it.”

Cas feints looking surprised. “Your instagram photos don’t do you justice,” he says.

A smile bleeds across her face. “Th-thank you.”

Now, she looks more affected. Ha, Dean thinks triumphantly.

“Anyway, your brand…it looks more upscale than hick, if you catch my drift.” She cuts her eyes at Dean.

Dean grits his teeth.

Hick?

///

When she finally leaves, it’s with a promise to reach out to Sam or Carl “early next week to discuss the sponsorship opportunity.”

She honestly hadn’t thought Family Coffee Co. was a great fit for her frou-frou (and in Dean’s opinion uppity, sterile, n’ fake) personal brand. But the week-long vacay opportunity had wooed her. And she’d heard of Donna, the unofficial face of their little operation, which had helped lend a lil’ credibility.

“I hope she calls Sam. She’s exhausting to talk to.”

Something about that makes Dean’s guts writhe in triumph.

“Know what? She is. She’s like a bridezilla without the wedding.”

Cas nods but looks like he hasn’t the slightest idea what Dean means. Whatever. He’s always wanted to show Cas Say Yes to The Dress, and there’s definitely some bridezilla episodes that Dean can queue up.

“So. Donna really have 10K followers?”

“It’s over twelve thousand according to Claire and Alex.”

“Jesus. For her posing with donuts.”

“Donuts in a variety of different locales.”