#not sure why i am invested so much to rant about this but i am cranky today

[jefflion]

This might be just my jealousy speaking (it totally does), but the polls thing frustrates me irrationally because I fear that by the time I get them, they will be run to the ground.

[cherryredcheol]

gatekeep gorgeous

tldr: just pot the photos? tf? a/n: sorry i've been MIA. life, ya know? also, what should i call this series? i'm still at a loss for names partner privilege passenger princess barbeque, baby

jeonghan crossed the room, calling out, “coups, i have a question for you.” 

seungcheol turned to look at his friend, “what’s up?” 

“why didn’t you post those photos i took of you the other day on your instagram? they looked really good and i was pretty proud of my photography skills.” jeonghan crossed his arms and waited for an answer, watching his hyung sputter to try and come up with some kind of excuse.

seungcheol was caught off guard by the question. “i just–”  

jeonghan interrupted, “don’t even try to tell me they didn’t look good, because i know they did.” 

“they just didn’t fit the vibe of my page right now, maybe i’ll post them later. save them for a rainy day, you know?” seungcheol was trying to lessen the awkwardness. 

jeonghan narrowed his eyes, not believing his answer, but not invested enough to argue, “whatever, they would’ve gotten so many likes. i’m sure of it. you should post them sometime.” 

“i know, thank you for taking them. they are great photos, i’m just not ready to share them.” 

“cheollie? are you sure you don’t mind?” you looked up at him from his chest where your head rested. 

he paused the movie playing on the tv in your bedroom, confused, “mind what, baby?” 

you sat up and looked down at him where he still lay, a little frown on your face, “you really don’t mind not posting those photos jeonghan took of you? they’re so nice and i feel bad asking you to let me keep them to myself. but sometimes i feel like i have to share so much of you with literally the entire world and i just wanted to be selfish. but i’m starting to feel really guilty about it and–”

“whoa, baby,” he interrupted your rant, sitting up to look at you better, “there is no reason for you to feel guilty. I don’t mind not sharing those photos if it makes you happy. you do share a lot of me, something i’m so thankful you put up with. so if you want to be selfish and gatekeep some photos of me, i don’t care.”

your frown lessened, “are you sure you don’t mind? i know your instagram is important to you and your image. if you want to post them, you can. i don’t mind.” 

he took your hands in his, “i am one hundred percent sure i do not want to post them. you are more important to me than any instgram post ever will be. keep them, those photos belong to you as far as i’m concerned” 

you beamed at him, “thank you cheollie. i love you.” 

“i love you more, baby.”

[ghost-proofbaby]

who could stay? (you could stay.) (eddie munson x reader)

summary: you're convinced that being loved comes with a cost. he finds a way to prove you wrong. (wc: 9.7k+)

order up! i've got one ash's special for anonymous. ♡

Keep going, keep going, keep going. 

Agree to run that errand for someone. Offer a shoulder to cry on for that person. Fix that problem for this friend. Keep going, keep offering, keep becoming indispensable. 

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact age you’d figured out the formula. You can never know for sure if the day was sunny or if it were rainy, if it were a calm December morning or a buzzing July night, but those details aren’t very important. The only important detail is that you had finally cracked the code at some point – you had finally figured out the solution to feeling unlovable. And that was that, truthfully, there wasn’t a solution. Once you were destined to feel this way, to feel so sour at your core, there is no easy way to rid yourself of that rotten pit. It would always be there – always churning, always burning, always yearning. Yearning to be loved, yearning to feel those waves of warmth cascading over your brain and down your spine, the ones others had always described to you but you’d just never… experienced. Never became familiar with.

It felt like everyone was playing an over-elaborate prank on you. They’d all conspired against you, invented a false feeling in which someone claims to feel loved, only to sit back and watch as you fumbled to find it. They’d laughed as you dug through a graveyard of relationships, caked your fingernails with dirt as you sobbed and would continue to claw deeper, trying to find just one set of bones that might hold that warmth for you. 

The only solution to that detrimental feeling of being unlovable, was to feel needed. 

You needed to feel so necessary, so essential, to everyone around you at all times. It never mattered how much of you it took. You’d give away every piece of yourself a million times over just to feel wanted at some capacity, even if that capacity were one you’d forced upon the other person. You didn’t care if you’d built the glass cages of theirs – you just cared that they kept you around to wipe away any smudges that appeared. 

Being wanted wasn’t quite the same as being loved. And if you thought about that for too long or too often, you might just break irrevocably. 

“I just don’t understand him,” Nancy sighs from the head of your bed, reclining against a wall of pillows you’d lined your headboard with. Two of which were body pillows. Long tubes of fluff to try and fill lonely spaces, you suppose, “Why didn’t he just tell me he didn’t want to go to the same college? Why… Why do I feel like I am forcing him to be with me?” 

Because you are. Just like I force you all to need me. 

“I don’t know, Nance.” 

That bland, bitter, half-thought out answer lingers on your tongue, almost burns your throat with the whisper of say more, say something useful, say something comforting. It’s the whisper of those four words not being enough. It’s the whisper of that threat that those four words could be the beginning of the end, the thing that makes Nancy realize she doesn’t need you. 

After all, what use is a friend that can’t give good advice, or be supportive during relationship rants? 

You open your mouth to add on something sweeter, something to coat the conversation like honey and smooth out the lines forming on Nancy’s forehead, but she beats you to it, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” 

Yes. “It’s fine,” at least that wasn’t a lie – you’d dug this specific grave, had rooted down tooth and nail only to find another empty coffin of a friendship curtained with want instead of love. You’d all but asked for this, “What he did really was shitty. It’s not fair to you.” 

The words are almost robotic, telling Nancy Wheeler what she wants to hear rather than what she needs to hear.  You don’t always do that, you do make a point of investing in the truth from time to time to truly secure your position as someone who is genuinely needed in her life, but the headache nagging at your temples tells you it’s not worth the fight tonight. You’re tired, you’re agitated, and you really just want to get Nancy to the point of contentment in her rambling so that you can send her on her way. 

God, you’re an awful friend. 

It turns you quiet, a ricocheting thought that bruises your inner skull the rest of the time Nancy sits on your bed. The guilt eats you alive for that moment of irritation the rest of the night. Even after Nancy goes home, even after you’ve brushed your teeth and you’ve tucked yourself into bed. The guilt gnaws on the edges of that emptiness inside of you, that ever-present black hole that already existed, and says this is why you cannot be loved. 

Maybe the pity party for feeling like a bad friend is what makes you a bad friend. 

And maybe if you were a better friend, you would be loved instead of wanted for once. 

It’s all part of a cycle, never-ending and treacherous. It’s always been this way. You make promises to your friends and rip yourself to shreds before remolding yourself into whatever they need; giving rides to the younger kids within your circle to the pool all summer which evolved into taking turns with Steve as to who would pick them all up after their D&D club ran late every Friday night, always lending a listening ear to Nancy once Johnathan moved away and she’d had to witness her relationship and her love vanishing in real time, always being the one person who will listen to Robin ramble for hours about her sudden interests. None of it was born of ill-intent, but when you’d go home lonesome at the end of the night, you could see it all for what it was. 

You were trying to fill a void. A hollow rot, a black hole. And it was only working half the time. 

Half the time, until he came along. 

And make no mistake, his arrival was as bloody as anyone who had previously entered your life. For a while there, you believed his headstone was at the end of the line already, sanctioned away in this graveyard of the ability to be loved. He came crashing into your life on a random Friday night, and you had sworn you could already see the end as it began, but you had been wrong. 

“So, you’re the infamous babysitter.” 

His voice caught you off guard. You’d been sitting in your car with your windows down, enjoying the reprieve of a cooling autumn evening as you waited for the boys to finish up with their D&D club. With your head buried in the latest sci-fi novel that Dustin had recommended and would no doubt be grilling you on once he got in the car, you hadn’t even heard the club exit the school. 

“Nope,” you fought a smile as you glanced up from the pages to see an older guy standing there, closer to yours and Steve’s age than the kids. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this was the famous Eddie all the boys would ramble on about for hours on end, “Harrington’s the babysitter. I’m just the taxi driver.” 

There was something particularly pretty in the way he threw his head back with laughter at your words. Curls that messily fell just beyond his shoulders, full lips disappearing as his teeth peeked through and shined beneath the parking lot’s lamp posts. His denim vest looked purposefully distressed with a mirage of patches and pins, and he was wearing a leather jacket beneath it, even if it wasn’t quite cold enough for it yet outside. He was cute – and watching him laugh because of you sparked something irreversible inside of you. 

“C’mon now,” he sighed as his cackles quieted, “Give yourself more credit than that. At least call yourself something fancy, like ‘chauffeur’.” 

“Ah, but ‘taxi driver’ insinuates that I charge them,” you don’t miss a beat, and your quick wit has him chuckling again. 

You caught sight of his eyes, corners creased with joy – brown. They were deep, russet, tantalizing brown. Almost indiscernible from his pupil in the dark. 

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You took his hand that he shoved through your open window with ease, and felt an immediate shiver run down your spine. Not quite from the cold, but not quite warm. You saw the first flash of his grave, and you knew you’d be digging your greedy hands into it soon enough. 

As you gave him your name in return, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone. 

You had been half right that night. You wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone, you would be seeking out the impossible from Eddie – but so would he. 

It quickly became apparent that Eddie was a pest. Someone who weaseled his way into the lives of others, who made his presence felt and never forgotten. 

You’d started with the same slow dance as you did with every new person, a hesitant dipping of your toes into their waters, unsure if your presence in their life would only cause more trouble than you’re worth, when you quickly discovered that nothing could ever be hesitant or slow with Eddie Munson. He’s the one constantly reaching out to you. Driving the kids home now takes double the time it used to, long conversations being had with him that has the kids dragging you away, practically begging to just be taken home. The day he’d asked for your number, you couldn’t tell which one of you burned brighter red. And the moment he had your number in his clutches? Forget about it. You never heard the end of Eddie Munson, and you never really wanted to. 

Unlike your friends you already had and loved deeply, Eddie was observant. 

It’s within the first month of knowing you that he had picked up on your insecurities. Maybe he hadn’t directly seen that gaping hole in your chest yet, but he noticed your habit of running yourself dry to see others thrive. 

The need to be needed. He picked up on it quickly. 

“What about Sunday?” Eddie’s voice traveled over the line as you laid on your stomach, stretched out across your bed for a few moments of rest before you had to get up and take the cookies you’d baked for Steve and Robin into Family Video, just like you had promised, “I’m free then if I finish all my fuckin’ homework on Saturday night.”

Surprisingly, that phone call with Eddie hadn’t been something expected or planned. It had been impulsive; in a rare moment of peace, you found yourself craving to hear his voice. Somehow, the two of you had ended up trying to figure out a free day to properly hang out. Eddie wanted to go to Benny’s for milkshakes, and you wouldn’t turn down the free fries he also promised.

“I can’t,” you paused just to hear his predictably dramatic sigh, grinning as you continued to explain, “I’m taking Max to the skatepark that day.”

“And it’s going to take all day?” 

“It could!”

“There’s absolutely no way.”

“You clearly haven’t seen that girl skate.” 

The conversation continued, light-hearted enough with plentiful jokes made. Something about talking with Eddie made your heart lighter, the usual unbearable and contradictory weight of emptiness no longer on your mind as you listened to him ramble about something that had happened in one of his classes – a teacher tried to embarrass him when he caught Eddie doodling for a D&D campaign by asking him a question, not expecting him to know the answer. Eddie had, of course, leaving the teacher baffled with a smirk.

 It’s all about my charm, sweetheart, he responded when you asked how he hadn’t earned a detention from that. 

Only towards the end of the call, when the conversation finally lulled and the two of you found yourselves settled into a comfortable silence, did Eddie finally circle back to the beginning of your conversation. 

“You know,” he started, “When I first met you, I never took you to be someone so…”

“Amazing? Wonderful? Funny?” you jokingly attempted to finish his sentence.

“Busy.” 

Oh. You hadn’t expected that one. 

“Busy?” you repeated back to him, “I’m not that busy.” 

Your mind immediately started racing with thoughts of what he had meant. Was he feeling neglected? Maybe you should have canceled on Max on Sunday, agreed to Benny’s with him instead. No, you couldn’t bear Max’s disappointment. Maybe you could tell Max you had a time constraint, even though you knew she hated those when it came to her skating days. Was there any other plans you could abandon? Anyone else you could bear to let down for the sake of not leaving Eddie high and dry? No, no – all your other weekend plans involved going to the movies with Robin, helping Steve look into colleges finally, taking the boys to the Starcourt mall to shop for supplies to make figurines for their newest campaign. The room was suddenly getting smaller, your chest constricting, your head spinning. You couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing any of those people, no, but what about Eddie? Maybe he was right in feeling neglected, maybe you deserved whatever guilt was to come from whatever his next words would be. He was your friend, you were supposed to make time for h-

“Sweetheart,” he scoffed over the line, and you swore you heart stopped right then and there, “You’re the highest thing in demand since Cabbage Patch Kids last Christmas – and trust me, I should know how in demand those fuckers were. I worked seasonally at the mall, remember?” 

Your breath caught. He was feeling neglected. You weakly began your apology as tears were already filling your eyes, that panic turning over itself in your gut, “I’m-”

“And it’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong,” It’s clear your voice had been too soft, too weak, for him to hear you, “Just means I’ve gotta fight harder to be worth your time, am I right?” 

You had to clear your throat, but it did nothing to subsidize that anxiety that rattled your bones. It’s blatantly evident as your voice shook with a second attempt at an apology, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean- I can… I’ll… Just tell me when for Benny’s. I can make it work, I swear-”

“Woah, woah, woah.” 

He had to have heard the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. The shake of your breath as you’d stuttered over your words, grasping for a solution. 

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” his voice was soothing and soft, the most gentle it had been the entire night. You pinched your eyes shut and just tried to imagine those stupid, big doe eyes, those ungodly messy curls (you’d started to tease him about if he ever even brushed or combed them). The panic remained, but Eddie’s voice started to give it a run for its money, “I was just playing around. You know that, right?” he paused to give you room to answer, but your throat was still tightly squeezed by overwhelming emotion, overwhelming fear of having scorned Eddie, “You could only have enough time in your schedule to see me once a year, and I’d still be your friend. We could only have these random phone calls, even if they were never longer than a minute, and you’d still be worth it. You know that, right?” Another pause, another wave of silence from your end, “Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.” 

Each word made the panic settle. You weren’t sure how he did it. You weren’t sure how mortified you should be that he had only been in your life for a month at most, and had just overheard you at your most vulnerable. 

All you were sure of was that you believed him. 

“Okay,” you croaked, finally feeling that ring of fear loosen, vocal chords finally functioning once more. 

“Okay,” Eddie repeated back in that same gentle, soothing, soft tone. 

You weren’t disappointing him. You weren’t making him feel neglected. He still found use for you, he still wanted you around – he still needed your friendship. That had to be enough.  

It was quiet over the line for a few moments. 

It has to be enough, you reminded yourself. 

“Say,” you finally said, voice back to normal strength and the tears having dried themselves up for the most part. Your heart had almost returned to normal rhythm, “How does Benny’s sound tonight?”

“Tonight?” he chimed back, sounding as excited as a little kid the morning of a cherished holiday, something like Christmas. 

A shiver ran down your spine. It’s not from the cold, and you tell yourself it’s not quite warmth – it can’t be warmth. 

“Tonight,” you confirmed, “With a detour by Family Video, if you don’t mind. I’ve got a special delivery of cookies to fulfill.” 

“What kind?”

“Excuse me?” 

You were grinning - God, you were a pathetic fool, grinning and clutching onto that phone like a lifeline. Like if you let go of it, you’d lose his voice, and if you lost his voice, that would be the end of the world. 

“What kind of cookies?”

“Chocolate chip.”

He hummed, not answering right away as if he were deliberating this information. When he finally spoke again, another shiver wrapped around your spine, spinning down, down down. Waves of what you almost believed were warmth. “Okay. I suppose I can be your taxi driver, for a price.”

“What’s your price?” 

“One cookie.”

“Deal.”

It had to be enough, because you were still clutching that telephone tightly to your cheek, long after the phone call ended with Eddie’s promise of being at your house soon enough. It had to be enough, because after that night, it became clear; the world would not end with the loss of just Eddie’s voice from your life, but the loss of Eddie, period. It was the first night of many in which you played a very, very dangerous game. 

Even with Nancy gone, you felt restless. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer in all that self-pity, still replaying the night and all you could have done differently. 

Had she caught on with how out of it you had been? Had she seen through your act and immediately assumed the worst – assumed you weren’t worth keeping around? 

The thoughts might be an overreaction. 

You were definitely overreacting. 

You didn’t really care that you were overreacting, though, because you really couldn’t control it. It was just another dark path you couldn’t stop your mind from traveling down. It was endless, and it was lonesome, and… and it was just normal. What should be devolving into a panic attack can only settle like an emptiness deep within your chest; you’ve been staring at the blank wall of your living room for so long without blinking, your eyes have gone dry. 

A pattern. That’s what the therapist said. You had a pattern for overthinking these interactions, for projecting feelings onto others that didn’t exist. You think all your friends hate you, you think that a stranger found your smile to be more of a grimace, you think your mom hasn’t called in months because she recognizes you as a failure finally. But none of it is actually what those people think. It’s like a mirror – you look into the eyes of others, and you see all your own insecurities reflected back. 

She’d asked you to work on it. To take a step back and just breathe, just remind yourself of that, whenever this happens. You’d decide whether you’d mention this minor slip up later. For now, you were going to wallow. You were going to spiral with just you, this damn blank wall, and maybe even the bottle of wine in the fridge. 

Yes, your mind was made up, and you force yourself to stand from the couch and wander into the kitchen, eyes still dry and chest still caving in on itself as you open the fridge. 

That’s as far as you get. Your fridge is wide open, the bright luminescent light flooding your kitchen floor in time with the trickling chill that sneaks up on your warm cheeks and already numb toes, when you spot it. 

A box of takeout. It’s old enough now you could throw it out, you had known the moment he’d taken the last of his meal to-go that he wouldn’t finish it. Teased him about it, even. But he was stubborn and you weren’t capable of turning down the opportunity to let another piece of him, another flash of evidence of his place in your life, occupy this apartment. So there it sat, a half-eaten burger he hadn’t revisited. 

But he had revisited the apartment – revisited you. He’d been here every night this week, and you’d practically had to shove him out on the street to get him to leave this morning to get to work on time. 

The edges of that emptiness that weighs down your insides blur, already lightening microscopically as you slam shut the fridge and forgo the wine completely to grab the phone instead.

“You don’t have to always take care of everyone, you know,” he murmured as he joined you in the kitchen to retrieve popcorn for the gang, everyone gathered in the living room for a movie night. 

“Pardon?” you asked, hardly glancing over your shoulder as you punched in the designated time for the microwave to turn the kernels into an easy, mouth-watering snack of butter and crunch. 

“You always take care of everyone. You don’t have to.”

His words rang clearer that time, loud enough to have stopped you in your tracks. You paused mid-reach, the cabinet for the Harrington’s bowls wide open and shelves nearly too tall for you. 

“I-” you weren’t sure exactly what to say, “What do you mean?” 

His brows scrunched, eyes having narrowed in the slightest in your direction, “Please don’t play dumb right now.” 

“I’m not playing dumb. I’m trying to get popcorn for our movie night,” you waved your hand towards the shelves lined with bowls for emphasis on your point, “That’s not really taking care of everyone – it was just being polite. Steve’s hosting, it’s the least I can do.” 

“The least you can do? The least you can do is actually just sit with friends, enjoy the movie,” the crease between his brow deepened, eyeing you with an unfamiliar concern. You shifted beneath the weight of his gaze. 

You don’t know what to say. Except, “It’s not that serious.” 

He scoffed, and you nearly flinched from it. Fear threatened to bubble up – he’s upset, he’s getting irritated at you. He’s getting tired of you. 

You waited for him to say something more as the buzz of the microwave filled the tense space, but he remained silent. Brooding. 

“What?” your voice shook, your entire being torn between succumbing to all that fear and anxiety in upsetting him further and that voice in the back of your mind that urged you to push him, to hear what he really thought. “I know you have something more to say.” 

“In the six months I’ve known you, you haven’t taken a single break for yourself.” 

He met your push, stood his ground and didn’t let it put any distance between you two. It felt like a goddamn revelation, right there in the Harrington kitchen. 

“I take plenty of breaks, Eddie,” you tried to laugh off, “I do spend time away from you all, hard as that may be to belie-”

“Hardly,” he cut you off as sharply as the first resonating pop that echoed from the microwave. 

“What’s your point? I just like being around you guys. Like I said, it’s not that serious.”

This was the part where the distance would happen. You kept pushing, took the inch he’d given you to bite back and ran with it. Normally, you avoided conflict with any of your friends vehemently. Always afraid, always assuming the relationships to be so fragile and so delicate. You would take such care in never giving them a reason to hate you that you’d never taken to a battleground before.

But there had been a look in Eddie’s eyes that night. A shine that, breaking through all the worry for you, whispered, fight with me. Stand your ground with me. I’ll still call you tomorrow, no matter what words we exchange tonight. 

A safety net had formed that you’d never even noticed. That delicacy wasn’t needed here. You could pick up the sword, there in that kitchen, and it wouldn’t turn Eddie to smoke and shadows. 

“My point is…” he paused, he swallowed hard, he exhibited the delicacy that was usually expected from you, “You can like being around us. But you should put yourself first. At least once. At least on movie night.” 

“How is me making popcorn not putting myself first?” you got the question out, you took a deep breath, ready to go on some sort of defensive tirade for your habit you were well aware of.

He beat you to it, “Every day last week, you only got three hours of sleep, at most, before your shifts. You gave up sleep to hang out with us all way too late, refused to throw in the towel and go home before anyone else.”

“I could have napped-” 

“You didn’t nap,” he stressed, taking a step closer to you. The popping of the snack turning in the microwave was erratic, mere seconds left on the timer. Static noise to the conversation at hand, “I know you didn’t fucking nap after your shifts because you were immediately running errands for everyone else, or hanging out again. You offered to give Robin a ride to work every single day, and her shifts start… what, an hour after yours ended? And then you had to give her rides home, right? But in those hours she was at work, you were helping Dustin with an essay for school – that little fucker told me all about it. You were awake when Johnathan called you and we were all stoned off our asses, went and got us food we didn’t need but still wanted. We didn’t even expect you to pick up, you know? I told them, I swore to them, you wouldn’t pick up. You had a morning shift. You were scheduled literal hours from when we called you. But you picked up. You fucking picked up, and you went and got the fucking food for us fucking idiots.”

Your brain completely malfunctioned. You couldn’t comprehend how he was saying all of these things that should be good things, things that proved you were needed and you were reliable, but with such venom in his tone. 

Anger had sparked within you as you pictured how giddy Dustin had been over the B he’d earned on his essay, that sincere appreciation on Robin’s face every time she left your car last week, the dopey grin that Argyle had worn when you’d arrived with their food order in your pajamas. All previously things to fuel you, filling that aching hole inside of you, now being tarnished because he was concerned.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you seethed at him, “Would you prefer I hadn’t been awake? Would you prefer I let Dustin just… get a fucking F on that essay? Or Robin walks to work?” 

“Yes!” 

You were both shocked at the sudden volume in your voices. The quickness in his reply. The quiver in your lip. 

“Yes,” he breathed out, quieter this time, “I would prefer those things if it meant you were taking care of yourself. The word ‘no’ should be in your vocabulary, sweetheart. I… The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.”

But you all needing me might.

“Just… just…” your breaths came out in huffs, eyes downcast and unwilling to meet Eddie’s stare. A final push, and it came out more fragile than you’d ever intended, “Just mind your business, Eddie.” 

He opened his mouth to say more, but the microwave started to go off, signaling what you saw as the end of the conversation – the fight. You’d raised your voice at him, you’d swung that sword in his direction, and he hadn’t vanished. His friendship – he – wasn’t as breakable as you’d thought. 

You spun on your heel, you took the popcorn out and divided it into bowls for the group, busying your hands in any way possible. All the while, he never left the kitchen. He stood just feet away from you and let you do what needed to be done, and only stopped you as you turned to exit the kitchen with the snacks acquired. 

His hand caught onto your elbow, “You have bags.” 

“Excuse me?”

“You have bags under your eyes,” he elaborated. He no longer looked frustrated, but defeated, a morose distress pinching the edges of his feature.

“Jesus,” you were now scoffing, adjusting your grip on those bowls, “You really know how to compliment a girl, don’t you?”

“They’ve been there for months,” his grip refused to loosen, thumb trailing over the crease in your arm, “Please don’t run yourself into the ground.” 

You gave him a cold shoulder as you left him behind to rejoin your friends, unable to shake his consternation. It was so genuine, it terrified you. It made your insides churn, it turned your anxious attachment to dust. 

It made a shiver of warmth travel down your spine. 

The empty space beside you on the couch only remained for seconds after you’d passed around the bowls, keeping one for yourself. He was back there, back at your side, as if the two of you hadn’t just exited a battle ground. As if a stand-off hadn’t just occurred, as if it all hadn’t ended in a draw. 

He looked at you with those eyes.

Fight with me. Stand your ground with me. Don’t walk away from me. I will still call tomorrow.

He did more than call that night. As the movie started, he didn’t so much as flinch when your head fell to his shoulder in exhaustion. He only tucked an arm around your shoulders, only shifted you to be more comfortable as you used him as a personal pillow. He glared at everyone in warning not to grill you on the plot of the movie when you’d awoke mildly disappointed, he’d let you sleep on the drive home. He never once brought the fight back up. 

And he still called the next day. 

After your shift, he was the first voice you heard after dragging your feet into your apartment. A brief apology was exchanged before it was back to business as usual between you two. And somewhere between his rambles, you fell asleep with your phone balanced half-haphazardly between your cheek and shoulder. You could only dream of the grin he wore when he’d hear your soft snores over the line, quieting down immediately to let you rest. He never hung up – he was content to sit on a hushed line if only for the assuredness that you were finally resting. 

The warmth no longer traveled down your spine, instead curling up timidly near that hole inside of you. You let it. 

“Munson residence!”

That warmth that had found home in your chest still remains to this day, rousing at Eddie’s voice over the line. It’s nearly enough to make you cry – the relief that floods you just by the sound of him and his endless chipper. His optimism that always seems to exist, even in contrast with those harsh edges he tries to portray. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, as if you’re not the only one in your apartment, “Can you… Are you free?” 

Even after a year, you still sometimes felt guilt, asking so much of him. Asking so much, and giving so little in return. 

But you weren’t the one who set that standard. Eddie had. Ferociously, fiercely, stubbornly. The insistence that you simply being was enough for him. 

“For you, sweetness?” he chuckles lowly. He recognizes your voice immediately; you never have to say it’s you calling. You could have shrugged it off as Caller ID, but you knew the Munson’s phone didn’t have that. No, he recognized you by voice only. He’d once joked that only you would one day be able to rouse him from the dead, based on the ‘sweet melody alone’. Recognition in death – you had managed to burrow your way so deeply into his life, you’d earned recognition in death. “Always. What’s up?” 

You could have just kept him on the phone. Had one of your infamous conversations about everything and nothing. Sat on the cold tiles of your kitchen and smiled like a child as you listened to him rant. But the cold chill of your lonesome apartment was becoming suffocating, and you remembered that take out in the fridge and the way one of his socks had ended up in your laundry last week. You remembered how you started keeping his favorite brand of beer in your fridge and how one of your pillows started to permanently smell like his aftershave.

He had a toothbrush in your bathroom. He had a key to your apartment. He had a space, here, in this lonesome apartment. And all you had to do was beckon to him, and he would come to fill it. Always. 

“Can you come over?” 

You don’t even have to explain yourself. He complies readily, whispers out a soft yes in the voice you’d also recognize even in death, and promises to be there within ten minutes. 

He makes it within eight. 

And you’re still leaning on your kitchen counter, your head still swimming dangerously with all the different ways you’d let down Nancy. Once upon a time, you might have worried about inviting him over, worried that your anxieties and your short-comings might bleed into your relationship with him. In the beginning, it had been simple enough. You kept him at an arm’s length away the moment you realized you couldn’t make yourself needed to him, not out of selfishness but out of fear. Fear, because if he didn’t need you, why would he stick around? 

Because without need, if you did the wrong thing, there was no necessary thread tying them to you. Because without need, there was no chance for the day that you might find love in your grave robbings, and you couldn’t handle the thought of someone like Eddie Munson deciding you weren’t worth his time. 

It hadn’t occurred to you for a very long time that maybe, possibly, you’d been going around the concept of love with a very wrong mindset. 

Your safe place. That’s what the back of the van had become over these sticky summer nights – your safest refuge. 

It was always the same scene; Eddie on his back beside you, lazily nursing a joint, while you sat up reading passages of the latest book you two had embarked on together. Sometimes it was poetry, sometimes it was fantasy, and sometimes, it was just a reread. That night, it was a reread. The Hobbit. 

“‘I don’t see that this will help us much,’ said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. ‘I remember the mountain well-’” you recited off of the page, when Eddie suddenly sat up abruptly and snatched the book from you. 

“No, no, no!” he wagged his finger at you after he discarded his joint into the ashtray you’d made him start keeping in the fan, “Sweetheart, you’re doing the voices all wrong.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, reaching to take the book back, “Not all of us have a Dungeon Master voice to whip out, Munson. Give it back.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Do I need to say please? I’ll say please.” 

It was best like this. Just the two of you, away from everyone else. Some nights, the two of you hadn’t even needed a book to bond over. You’d just gaze at stars, or indulge in whatever weed he’d brought along with him. He never pressured you, though – if you shook your head at his offer of the joint, that was that. He seemed to apply that to most aspects of your friendship this last year. 

You never had to prove anything to him. He saw your worth as if it were glaringly obvious, as if it were as simple of a concept as breathing. No extra effort needed from your end. 

Just by being, you had managed to become something important to him. He needed you, if only because you were you. 

“The puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work on me,” he snorted, shifting so that his shoulder pressed against your own. A warmth spreads from the point of contact. “Let the master show you how it’s done.” 

You tried to not let it show, but your grin was radiant. He was the master at those ridiculous voices, at theatrics and at bringing the story to life. You were transported from the shore of Lover’s Lake, in the back of that stuffy yet comforting van, to meadows of soft grass and hobbit holes of comfort. To a place where all the threats were mythical and all the expectations of you were released. 

You’d spent the week helping Steve finish up his college plans. His parents had tried to pressure him into picking his top three universities, but the moment he had confided in you that he might prefer a community college to begin, you’d held his hand as you guided him through the process. A rewarding process, have no doubt, but it had left you numb and reeling. Sharing someone else’s stress, shouldering their burdens – it had been a bit much.

You needed this. You needed Eddie’s ridiculous voices and the sharp press of his shoulder against your temple. 

“Falling asleep on me already?” he teased when he’d noticed how quiet you had gone. 

“Never,” you lied through a yawn that quickly exposed you. 

“Liar,” he huffed. You didn’t even need to glance up to confirm the smile you knew he wore. “We can head back home, if you need. I know it’s getting late-”

“No,” you quickly sat up, effectively making yourself dizzy, “No, I- It’s fine. I’m awake. I swear.”

“It’s okay that you were falling asleep,” he was quick to reach out, to tug you back down to his side, wrapping his arm around you to press you even closer than before, “I just don’t want to keep Cinderella out past Midnight.” 

“It’s barely ten.” 

“Nothing gets past you, Sherlock,” he scowled as you pressed your grin against his t-shirt clad shoulder, “I’m serious, though. Do I need to take you home?”

“No, Eddie. I’m good.”

“Swear it? Swear you don’t have an early shift, or some… some obligation?” 

“No shifts, no obligations.” 

“And if I just kidnap you for the weekend? Am I going to have an angry mob at my doorstep, demanding your service?” 

You smiled wider at the thought. The idea of him hiding you away, letting you live in this reprieve for the entire weekend. It was a nice thought, “I certainly wouldn’t complain.” 

And so the two of you sat there like that for an hour more. Eddie coming up with ridiculous tones for the various characters, you slipping in and out of consciousness as his warmth stayed wrapped around him. You don’t even notice when the warmth he’d planted in you finally covers up that hole inside of you, not even missing the absence of that emptiness until Eddie went quiet.

In the silence, you noticed it. 

The gash you’d grown accustomed to, the hole that had become an extra limb for you. Vanished. Gone. Disappeared without a trace.

It was a sudden and terrifying realization. Everything in you urged you to jump up, to scramble around you to find the darkness again, like a comfort blanket you couldn’t stand to lose. You went against the instinct, though, and rose slowly from Eddie’s hold. 

In lieu of scrambling, you peered at Eddie curiously. “Hey, Eds. Can I ask you something?” 

He nodded sleepily, almost as drowsy as you. You’re shocked when he shifts and instead of pulling you back to him, he opted to lay his head in your lap. 

That hole was still gone. The weight of his head on your thighs, the feeling of his breath on your bare thigh. For a moment, you can’t breathe. 

You’re warm. Not uncomfortably so, but encapsulated with an internal warmth. Like a fever spreading, the ice in your spine that you had lived with for years had begun to thaw. 

“Why do you keep me around?” you whispered, still sitting stiffly, staring in awe down at the way he just nuzzled his face into your lap.

With his eyes still closed, face smooth from any worry from the question, he mumbled, “What do you mean?” 

You only hesitated due to the thought crossing your mind; what if you bringing this up reminds him? 

You thought back to the night in Harrington’s kitchen. The push and the pull, the bloody battle and the way he still called.

He was not as delicate as you took him for. 

“I- What do you get out of this?” you couldn’t figure out how to phrase it correctly. You knew what you got out of this, but what does he get? 

“Get out of what?” 

“Get out of keeping me around.”

His eyes finally opened, twisting in your lap so that he could stare up at you. “You say that as if you’re forcing me to be your friend.” 

I could be, that nagging voice in your mind whispered. You could very well be forcing him, and just be blinded because you were enjoying the summer of warmth that he carried with him too much to let him go. 

“You never let me do anything for you,” you sighed, fingers finding themselves tangled in his roots against better judgment. But you needed to touch him, to ground yourself, as you admitted this hard truth, “You do shit for me all the time. You drive all the way out to this lake just because I complain about everything being too much. You’ve started playing chauffeur for the kids to give me a break. Harrington said you even offered to look at college brochures with him. And…. And I’m not stupid, Eds,” your voice shook as you looked down at him, a sudden feeling of undeserving striking you in your chest, “You do so much for me lately. And you don’t ask for anything in return – you don’t let me do anything in return. Why?”

His smile twisted with a hint of sadness, and brown eyes met your gaze without so much as flinching, “Sweetheart, why do you think you have to repay me for that stuff?”

“I-”

“No, hear me out,” he reached up, taking your hand out of his hair and lacing his fingers with yours, slowly dragging it down to rest on his sternum, “I chose to do that stuff. And, yeah, maybe I was trying to take some of that shit off your plate. But you didn’t ask me to. I chose to. I wanted to do those things, do nice things for you, because you won’t let anyone else.” 

You bit back a scoff, “I let people do nice things for me-”

“You really don’t,” his hold on your hand tightened, “You really, really don’t. You constantly…. You just, you take care of everyone else, but you act afraid to let someone take care of you. People are allowed to take care of you, too, y’know? You should let them. They love you – they want to take care of you, just like you take care of them.” 

They love you. 

The air drained from your lungs in a slow, silent sigh. You waited a few minutes, but the oxygen never replenished as you tried to grasp his words. 

They love you. 

Why would they love me? 

“Why wouldn’t they love you, sweetheart?” Eddie looked more concerned now, suddenly prepared to sit up and remove his head for your lap. But his hand still held yours tightly, still clung to you, “You know they love you, right? God, you gotta know that. We all love you.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d spoken the bitter thought out loud until he looked at you, utterly heartbroken, in complete disbelief. “I…”

No. I don’t know that. What have I done to deserve their love? 

“They need me, sure,” you started, narrowing your eyes at the breaks in the waves of Lover’s Lake, “I mean, I just try to make myself useful to them. It’s the least I can do when I… when they…” you struggled to get the words out. You saw that hole again, like a light at the end of the tunnel, but so far from the relief most mean by that metaphor. Something peeking around the corner, ready to devour you all over again. So you plunged, you prepared yourself for it to spring to life and take you whole as you nearly whimpered, “When they put up with me. It’s the least I can do when they put up with me.” 

“No one puts up with you,” Eddie’s voice cracked. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “Least of all me.” 

The deadliest of blows. He cracked your hardened surface with that, shook the foundations of every belief you’d held for eternity. 

“Most of all you,” you corrected without thinking, “God, I- Eddie, seriously. What reason do you have for keeping me around? I don’t know how the fuck you put up with m-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you’d never heard him beg so painfully before then, “Please. Don’t… You want to know my reason?” you nodded numbly, finally looking to find him with wet eyes and lips pressed into a fine line, “Because you’re you. I… Fuck, I love you. I keep you around because you’re you. You’re good for me. Whether you believe it or not. You’re good for me just by being you, and there’s nothing you have to do to accomplish that,” you started to look away before he grabbed your cheeks, turning you to face him as he emphasized each word, “You don’t have to earn love. That’s not what love is. Got it?” 

You looked into his eyes, and saw all the soft declarations of love echoed back to you, even from the very start. 

‘Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.’

‘The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.’

The entire time you’d been so worried about taking care of everyone else, he’d been worried about taking care of you. Endless late night phone calls, careful check-ins when he saw the exhaustion take the frontlines, sparse fights about putting yourself first. The only thing he ever wanted from you was for you to take care of yourself. 

While you were busy being there for everyone else, he was busy being there for you. 

He never once made you dig to the bottom of his grave to find the warmth. He’d handed it over on a silver platter. 

So how could you look him in his at that moment, and tell him that you didn’t ‘get it’? That you’d never been sure if what you were seeking from your friends was really love? That, really, you’d given up on being loved a long time ago, assuming it was asking too much? 

How do you look him in his eyes in that moment and tell him you had long since declared yourself unlovable? 

He didn’t make you say it. Only kept your cheeks pressed between his palms, as he leaned forward, forehead meeting yours and whispering words for only you, “I love you, no strings attached. You’re my… friend. I love you. Okay?”  

No one had ever fought so valiantly to get the point across. Not just that night at the lake, but in the entirety of his friendship with you. 

The hole slinked back behind the corner. The darkness decided it could wait another day. And in its place, warm brown eyes filled the void. Whether he even realized it or not. 

You nearly believed him. Nearly. But you bit down hard on that belief, throwing it out of sight, and instead of echoing back the ‘okay’ you assumed he was seeking out, all you did was sob out another, “Why?” 

When you collapsed into him, he held you. Your sobs remained dry, your confusion palpable as you clung to him and tried to let that belief envelope you like his arms had. 

I love you. 

How could someone love you? 

He didn’t press it the way you thought he would. He didn’t scold you for continuing to question him and he didn’t lash out at your disbelief. 

He just held you. Letting your face press into his neck as his fingers ran up and down your spine, giving it a moment before he started talking again. 

“Your humor,” he hummed after a couple moments of silence, heavy breathing eventually evening out. 

“What?”

“The way you take care of others,” he continued on like he hadn’t heard you, “That spark you get in your eyes when you tell someone about something good. A favorite book, movie, story from your day – whatever it is. The way you give the best hugs – and you don’t give me them nearly often enough. The way you snore, and the way you definitely deny snoring.” 

You opened your mouth, about to lift your head and argue with him, but he just placed an encouraging palm on the back of your head to keep you close to him. 

“The way your favorite color changes with the seasons. The way you only like artificial cherry flavoring, not the real stuff. The way you look at night when we’re driving and you’re just screaming your favorite lyrics. The way you look at me to see if a joke lands. The way you fuss about my wrinkled clothes, even when you also don’t care about the wrinkles in your own shirts. The way you take your coffee. The way you always offer to paint one of my nails to match yours. The way you treat your recipe for chocolate chip cookies like some top secret, government trade. But we both know it’s just some recipe from a cookbook you thrifted when you were ten. The way you get excited over the small things, like the cows we pass by on the way out here. They're always there, and you always point them out. The way you just… are.” 

He didn’t have to say it. He was answering your question. 

He was listing his whys. 

“You don’t have to earn it,” he didn’t say the word, not this time. You felt it, “It just… it’s there. It’s there and it’s not going anywhere. I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.” 

Loved. For the first time ever, it felt like a possibility; to be loved. 

Eddie always knocks on your front door a certain way – a pattern he rarely strays from. But you can always tell. He’s the only fool who would find humor in knocking out such an annoying compilation of hits on the wooden panels until you finally unlatch the lock and open it to find him standing in your threshold. 

His hair is frizzy and in a low ponytail, wearing a baggy band shirt and plaid pajama pants. He greets you with such a wide smile, your chest aches. 

“Hey there, sweetness.” 

You don’t say a word, just drag him inside before you wrap your arms around his waist. Ever since that night, and his admittance of enjoying your hugs, you made a conscious effort to hug him more often. 

“Miss me?” he chuckles, and you feel the vibrations against your cheek as you softly pinch his side. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him only laugh harder once you pull away. 

“Not at all,” you snark back as you make sure the door is securely shut and properly locked.

“Not even a little bit?”

“Nope.” 

He smacks a fist to his chest as if you had stabbed him with your words, “Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.” 

“Get over it,” you tease. Your head has finally stopped swimming, your chest no longer tight with the fear of not being enough. Nancy is long forgotten as you say, “Have you eaten dinner?” 

“Depends,” he hums as he toes off his boots, “If you’re offering to buy me some, then no, I definitely did not eat spaghetti with Wayne right before you called.” 

You throw your head back laughing as he’s already making a beeline for your kitchen, digging out that damned takeout menu and reaching for the phone, already so sure of your order.

Knowing your order at restaurants. Without having to ask. Apparently, that was part of the whole ‘being loved’ gig. 

Adjusting has taken months. Since that night in Eddie’s van, he’d kept his word. Not a day went by without him finding a way to remind you, whether it be by direct words or small actions, that he loved you. You both kept it under that friendly guise. He loved you in that familiar way, the way the others supposedly loved you. A way you could manage to recognize some days. 

Other days were still rough. Days like today were still rough. 

The takeout is ordered and Eddie sets up camp on your couch, rambling about something that had happened during one of the DnD nights he still hosted with the kids. Something about a dumb decision Mike did that cost most of the group their character’s lives. You have a hard time following along, and he’s quick to pick up on it. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” he murmurs as you lean into the back couch cushion, smooshing your cheek as you watched him animatedly speak.

“Hm?”

“Bad day?” 

He never judged you for the rough days. He never judged you for the days you still couldn’t find the love, even after he worked so virtuously to show it to you. He may never understand it, that hollow ache that resided in your darkest corners and whispered that none of it was real, but it never deterred him.

He loved you on good days, and he especially loved you on bad days. 

You consider lying to him, but you can’t. Not when he looks at you so earnestly, “Yeah. It… yeah.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks you, shuffling to be more comfortable where he sits as he motions for you to lay down. You do so immediately, head finding a home against his thigh and his fingers stroking over your cheek before they toy with the ends of your hair. 

All you can do is shake your head. You didn’t want to talk about that fear of failing Nancy as a friend, especially when you know that wasn’t her take away from it. It felt silly now; all that overthinking, when you know now if you questioned her on it, all she would have seen from the day was a friend lending a caring ear. You know because you had asked her about it once, if she found your listening habits too callous, upon Eddie’s insistence. 

She hadn’t. In fact, all she could do was thank you, had insisted that she was just grateful someone would listen to her ramblings. And you understood that, left it at that. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, voice so quiet you nearly miss it. His fingers continue to play across your shoulders now, barely weighted against bare skin, “That’s fine.” 

He didn’t mind if you didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t mind if you never spoke another word, if all you needed was him here. You just needed him close by and to sit with you, to make it all a little less much. 

Nothing. He needed absolutely nothing from you, asked nothing of you. Because you didn’t have to earn this. All you had to do was simply be, and he would provide this. 

Love. What an odd concept, to have found warmth in a grave you never even got the chance to dig your shovel into. 

“Hey, Eddie?” his fingers pause at your croaking voice. You smile at his stillness, at the way he hums carefully in response, still trying to offer the silence you quietly begged for, “I love you.” 

There’s more to unpack there. More than just familial love, more than just two friends that love each other without conditions. But tonight is not the night, and you both see that it is enough. There will be other nights to dig your claws in and to dissect what those three little words mean between you two. There will be other nights to consider how your other friends don’t have a permanent spare toothbrush on your bathroom counter or a space for their takeout in your fridge. But not tonight.

For tonight, this was enough. The quiet, and the warmth, the being was enough. 

“I love you,” he emphasizes the last word, leaning down and his lips grazing your temple. 

You notice the way he leaves off the too. He’d love you, even if you didn’t love him. You’d love him, even if he didn’t love you. Unconditional, no strings attached. A warmth you do not have to fight to earn. A rarity you never encountered before, and may never encounter again, but you have for tonight and for as long as he chooses to stick around. 

Your shovel sits abandoned in a shed in the distance. Your fingernails are clean of the dirt. The graveyard, it seems, would go another night without its robber. 

[lucky-clover-gazette]

my favorite moments from theamandafiles’s confrontation with volo. this is an adult woman talking to a screen for 7+ minutes and im obsessed with it. the dynamic she’s made up in her head for this game is so far from what’s actually happening, but also absolutely fantastic. the sneasler rant has nothing on this.

transcript under the cut:

He is so passionate about his thing, about his special interest. He really is. I am constantly losing my grip on reality. I have no room to judge Volo for a little bit of unhinged laughter and some mildly insane musings.

Hmm? Sorry, I just. I think I just realized what's going to happen. Sorry. Am I an idiot?

That was your—that was you who did the hole in the sky. Okay, mhm, all right. I got blamed for that, Volo, I don't know if you knew that. It's fine. Honestly, it's fine. Just let's keep, let's keep learning more about Volo.

Right, yeah, we did that! We did that, Volo, right? Didn't we fuckin' do that? Why don't we donate them to a museum or something? Wouldn't that be sick? Would that be fuckin' awesome if we put them in a museum for all to see?

What's—what's this? Hey, what the fuck? Who's this? Is this a prank? Surely, with the hair. Because I did not just see that you have a fuckin' Arceus hairdo.

Oh, okay! Volo's crazy! Right, right. Look at the fucking hair. Yeah! No, Volo's fucking crazy—yeah, no, he's a deranged lunatic.

Actually, yeah. Look at his eyes, oh my god. Volo's going to kill me and then cook and eat my remains. It's. It's fine. I'm fine.

Pokemon Wielder Volo? You mean (voice cracks) Gingko Guild Merchant?

You know what, Volo? I'm crazy, too. Look, I can match this. Like you said, when you said you were going to wipe out Jubilife City, I'm all for that. I am all for that. Absolutely! Yes! Let's do it. We can make this work. I am not invested in helping these people. Yeah, we live in a society? Not for long, am I right?

Just, I looked at the costume again. And his hair. He—he did his hair, you guys. And it's... bad.

First and foremost, what the fuck are you wearing? Literally, I keep looking at it. And the more you look, it's like, the more you look, the more you see.

I'm just really unpacking this... as I kick his ass. Anyway, where was I, Volo? Let me just continue to fuck you up. Volo is really doing this. Volo is really doing this. He's doing it in green pants.

He method acted an entire love story between us. Yeah, he is that crazy. He's that crazy, that he's going to let me slip through his fingers. Are you sure, Volo? You really sure? Maybe, like, that was your plan at first. Because if I may be so bold, uh, it's actually not even fucking possible for anyone to spend as much time with me as you have without falling in love with me.

Like I said, I said it before, and I will stand by that—and I'm about to beat you, by the way—

Call me. Call me, Volo! Oh wait, you can't, because we live in the fucking past, and you don't have a phone. And I do. Mhm, yeah. You know, you can't call me on your arc phone because Arceus didn't give you an arc phone, did he? Oh, poor Volo. He did his hair like Arceus and everything. And for what? Right. It was probably the green pants, Volo, honestly. And the gladiator sandals, what the fuck are you doing?

What the fuck was I thinking? God, why do I always go for these crazy ass fucking men?

I don't want to be picked by Arceus! If anything, I wanted to be picked by you! But unfortunately, I'm amazing. And Arceus loves me. I'm sorry that your little fucking hairdo didn't work to impress Arceus, and that all I had to do was literally exist and Arceus stanned the hell out of it.

What, are you going to kill me? He's going to kill me with a knife now just to get me out of the way. Like, what the hell, why does everybody want to fucking kill me?! I get it. I'm the best. I'm amazing. I'm the best that ever was. But murder is illegal, okay?

What is this? Are you fucking kidding me? What is this act? Oh, my god. Volo... this is very camp.

Volo is fucking crazy. Did I even get to heal these motherfuckers? Am I supposed to catch this motherfucker? This Satan ass Pokemon. This is Satan, I guess. And he came to, like, pull up for fucking Volo. Why? The hair? Was it the hair?

Finally, I got, like, a word in edgewise. Finally. Acorn, take this motherfucker out. Yeah. This is embarrassing for you. You're a God Pokémon? Where? You could have fucking fooled me, Giratina.

I do find it very inspiring that my little tugboat-ass Jay Jay the Jet Plane Togekiss, like, ended your entire bloodline. Mhm, yeah.

Volo! Oh, honey, sweetie, are you okay? Are you going to be okay?

He's fucking crazy. He's so crazy, Volo, I fucking love your crazy ass... but this is toxic of me to say, so, I hate it. I hate you. What was I talking about? Yeah. No, you're such a bad guy. You're the bad guy, Volo. I didn't even read that, fuck.

I know, Volo. Believe me, I would have agreed with you when those motherfuckers kicked me out in Jubilife City. I would have agreed if you had come to me then and you would've said, "Let's take down the whole fucking world. Let's end the entire planet." I would have said, "Okay. Yeah. Oh, yeah. Hell, yeah. That's exactly what I want to do right now." But you didn't. And now I'm here, and I'm... being noble, and I'm going to say, "You better stop, because this is not okay. Cut it out."

I'm crazy too, Volo, I'm so fucking crazy. I'm so unhinged, I'm crazy, nobody understands the inner workings of my mind, Volo, you don't get it.

This is your last chance to scoop me up as your partner. Honestly, Volo. That's what it is. I would fix your hair, I would. We would go back to the salon—to the salon!—I would fix it up. It's not that bad. It just needs a little shaping.

(Deep sigh) Volo, you could have had it all. I would have been your crazy bitch. We could have been Bonnie and Clyde, Volo. And we still can, honestly, if you say the word. And let me fix your hair. And also your outfit.

So I also just want to say really quickly, I noticed that you had a Togekiss, and that means that your Togepi that you had in the beginning evolved to a Togekiss. But in order to do that, I think you need to love your Togapi. So it's like, you do—you did have the capacity to love someone.

He's fucking unhinged. He's deranged, he's crazy. Like, why did his eyes go crazy like that? What the fuck?

He actually looks so good right now, like, minus the hair. The hair is so bad. Volo, that is the one and only reason Arceus did not choose you. Honestly, that's all it comes down to. Easy as that!

But I'm putting my thumb actually, on the—I'm putting it on the screen, over the weird part of your hair? I'm begging you. Let's destroy society together. Come on.

That's so sad, he's, like, hanging up his hat. Actually, please put the hat back on. He's giving me something—he's giving me the plate. Spooky plate. Yeah, that's for sure. That's for damn sure, Volo.

Why do you suddenly look so good? You know, you look deranged and crazy like a fucking lunatic. And I could have swore you off forever, but now you look so cute and good. And I'm like, what the fuck were you thinking, Volo? You threw it all away for what, the arc phone? Bitch. It's really not even that good of a phone. Honestly, there's, like, no games on it.

I don't know. I figured like, a true Arceus fanboy would be impressed and enamored by the girl who Arceus is simping for this hard. Like, if you were to date me, I'd literally bring you with me to meet Arceus, and you'd be able to live your stupid little dream.

Although I will say, for someone who so deeply wants me to fail, you giving me that last plate, that spooky plate... I dunno. It's just kind of interesting, and I am reading into it. Yes.

Volo you are fucking out of your mind. You're crazy. I tell you, you're fucking insane. Somebody wheel him off. Seriously, what the fuck? He's going out in public looking like that.

[pale-opal]

Hear Me Out:

I know that image and what I'm about to say has a chance of being incredibly niche, because I have no idea how much overlap there is between the Homestuck and Mega Man fandoms. But if there's anything I've learned from the internet, it's that no matter what fandom you're in, it's almost guaranteed that someone in said fandom has read Homestuck before. So I think someone out there will understand the rant I'm about to go on. But for everyone who hasn't read Homestuck before, here's a quick explanation: Homestuck is a webcomic that was written and published by a man named Andrew Hussie. It ran from 2009-2016. It follows the misadventures of four kids as they play a game called Sburb with the help of twelve other kids known as "trolls." Together, they go on a quest to complete the game, as the initiation of it has caused the world to end (so even if they wanted to quit, they couldn't. Whoops). It is currently available to read on mspaintadventures.com, however I do NOT recommend reading it if you are a minor, or if you have sensitivity to content that contains violence, strong language, etc. - There were also two (technically one?) epilogues produced afterward, as well as a sequel called "Homestuck^2". - The disclaimer above applies to those works as well.

Okay. Now that I've explained what Homestuck is, let's get into why I put these four Doctors in the squares that I did.

Dr. Cossack: Has read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - He just seems like the kind of man who casually knows a lot about a lot of things. - A "nerd," if you will. - I can see him reading this in college and subsequently getting totally invested. - He relates to John Egbert (one of the four kids I mentioned earlier) on a personal level. - He did not like the epilogues. - He likes Homestuck^2, though. Dr. Light: Has Read Homestuck, Doesn't Know What Homestuck Is - I imagine that Light was introduced to Homestuck through Cossack while they were in college. - Like, what if Light got sick at some point, and Cossack came over and showed him this random webcomic he found in an attempt to make him feel better, only for Light to wake up the next day, convinced the whole thing was a fever dream? - Cut to many years later, after the birth of Proto Man. - Light and Cossack are having a conversation on the phone: - Cossack: "Hey, Thomas. Do you remember Homestuck?" - Light: "...Homestuck?" - Cossack: "You know, that webcomic I showed you when you got the flu back in college?" - Light: "I'm not sure I-" - Cossack: "The one with the little gray people?" - Light: "Little gray- wait. Wait, that was real?!" - He has not read the epilogues or Homestuck^2. Dr. LaLinde: Has Not Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - I think that Dr. Cossack would go on many coffee-fueled 2 a.m. rants to her during last-minute attempts to finish projects on time when the two of them were in college. - LaLinde would always listen respectfully, and as a result knows the entire lore behind Homestuck despite never reading it. - One day, she decided to give it a go. Here's how that went: - LaLinde: "Okay, let's see here- what? Eight thousand (8000) pages? Where am I going to find the time to read all of that?" - And so, she has to this day never read the darn thing. Dr. Wily: Has Not Read Homestuck, Does Not Know What Homestuck Is - The reasoning behind this is simple: he just couldn't get into it. - Dr. Cossack tried several times while they were in college to convince him to read it, but it sounded really convoluted to him. - Dr. Light tried to get him to read it before the whole "Dr. Wily becomes evil and takes over the world" thing after he remembered what it was. - That didn't work either. - Plus, the whole thing just seemed too long. - He eventually just forgot it existed once Light stopped trying to get him to read it. But here's something else about the Doctors: they all had kids. Kids who all grew up with different levels of parental involvement. Kids who would've probably heard their parents talk about this strange little webcomic at one time or another. Which brings me to my next point:

Blues: Has Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - I imagine that he heard the aforementioned phone call between Light and Cossack, and asked Dr. Light about what they were talking about. - Light straight up tells him that he's not allowed to read it. - Blues accepts this. - Cut to Blues' life after he runs away from home. He's at the library. - He's also in the midst of his "I hate my dad" arc, and as a result is more than willing to go and read this comic Dr. Light told him was off-limits. - He spends a whole day reading the webcomic, its epilogues, and its sequel. - He is there from the time the library opens to the time it closes. - And once everything is said and done, he is a changed man. - His favorite character is Dave Strider. - He also used to like Dirk Strider and Jane Crocker, but then he read the epilogues. Bass: Has Read Homestuck, Doesn't Know What Homestuck is - Bass was just minding his business, until he finds Proto Man broke into his house... again. - I like to think Blues breaks into Wily Fortress sometimes, just because he can. As a treat. - And to visit any Wilybots he's friends with. - He goes to confront Blues, only to find him in the midst of his third reread of Homestuck. - He asks what he's doing. - Blues tells him to pull up a chair. - He starts the reread over so that Bass can understand what's going on. - Bass, too, ends up a changed man. Even if he has no idea what he just read. - His favorite character is Karkat Vantas. - He made a trollsona (basically a troll OC), but has never told a living soul about it. - Also, he will never admit it, but "[S] Game Over" messed him up on an emotional level (if you don't know what "[S] Game Over" is, don't worry about it. Don't look it up. It's okay. Just forget I said anything). Tempo: Has Not Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - Quake Woman has not read Homestuck for the same reason her mother hasn't read it: She's simply too busy. - Blues tries to convince her to read it, though. - But here's the thing: Vesper Woman HAS read it... but she just thought it was just alright. This leads to conversation like this happening: - Vesper: "Don't listen to him, Tempo. It's okay at best." - Blues: "..." - Blues: "...would you like to elaborate on that?" - They get into arguments about different aspects of the plot a LOT. - Tempo just listens quietly while she works. - Out of curiosity, she ended up looking it up one day when she had free time, and ended up stumbling across Hiveswap instead. - Hiveswap is a spin-off game that takes place in Homestuck's universe. The first Act was released in 2017, and the second was released in 2020. - I will admit that I haven't played Hiveswap, so I'm not sure if the disclaimer I provided for Homestuck applies here. Kalinka Cossack: Has Never Read Homestuck, Does Not Know What Homestuck Is - My reasoning behind this is even more simple than Dr. Wily's: - Dr. Cossack does not let her know that Homestuck exists in an effort to keep her innocence in tact. - That's it. That's the reasoning. You can all go home n-. - ...wait. Is that ANOTHER image down there?

You see, there's one more set of characters that I want to discuss in this long, long post. Characters that wouldn't be influenced by their parents, meaning that whether or not they've read Homestuck would be more up to happenstance:

...I can explain.

Zero: Has Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - Part of the reason I put him here is because he ended up being the opposite of what Wily wanted him to be. He wanted a ruthless killing machine, and instead he got someone who helps save the world on multiple occasions. So why not have him be the opposite of his creator in Homestuck knowledge as well? - (Although if you think about it, Zero is technically a ruthless killing machine, but that's not what we're here to talk about). - Another other part of the reasoning is that I thought it was funny. - Zero had trouble getting invested until Act 5. - After he reached that point, he was locked in. - He sees a little bit of himself in Rose Lalonde and Dirk Strider. - He has never read the epilogues, or the sequel. Once he saw the Snapchat bonus content, he thought that was it. - Zero successfully got Iris into the comic as well. - Her favorite character was also Rose. - I like to think he and Layer also became friends after realizing they were both Homestuck fans.

Axl: Has Read Homestuck, Doesn't Know What Homestuck Is - He found a dub of the series on YouTube on day while watching random videos. - He was invested almost immediately. - Axl would talk about it with the other Red Alert members a lot - especially to Red and Tornado. - But there was one problem: He didn't know the name of it. It just completely slipped his mind at one point, and he wasn't able to get it back. This led to stuff like this: - Axl: "And THEN John and his friends are losing to the Condescence, but-" - Red: "That's nice and all, but what's this webcomic you read called?" - Axl: "Uh... I dunno. I can't remember." - Red: "Are you sure you didn't just make it up?" - Axl: "Wha- Yes! Yes, I'm sure!" - Red: "...sure thing, little buddy." - After joining the Maverick Hunters, Axl casually brings up the plot of this comic he can't remember the name of. Zero soon says this: - Zero: "...are you talking about Homestuck?" - Axl: "That's what it's called?!" - He made a trollsona like Bass did, but is a lot less shy about sharing it. - His favorite character is Roxy Lalonde. - Axl got Palette into it as well. X: Has Not Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - He heard Zero talk about it with Iris a lot, but it sounded a bit too violent for his tastes. - He did play the Pesterquest visual novel, though. - Yes, the disclaimer does apply for this visual novel. - I like to think that at some point in X7, X complains about Zero and Axl's interest in "overly violent media" and asks if Zero has started "corrupting the youth." - He is promptly told to shut up. - X is more open to the idea of reading Homestuck by the time X8 comes around though. But it isn't until Axl is recovering from the game's ending that he actually starts considering it, since he knows it'll make Axl happy. - Speaking of which: will Capcom ever give us X9? - I just want to know if Axl is really okay, or if Lumine messed him up somehow. - It's been almost 20 years since the game released. 20 years is a long time to leave part of a video game franchise on a cliffhanger (but then again, Mega Man Legends fans have been waiting for 24 years...) Sigma: Has Not Read Homestuck, Does Not Know What Homestuck Is - The reason Sigma is in this category is very easy to explain: - He deserves nothing that could give him any semblance of happiness. - Also, I hate him.

Alright, rant over.

The inspiration for this post, as well as the original template, can be found here.

...now you can all go home.

[justthatwwegirl]

(Idk, I'm always making imagines inspired by Laufey songs)

From The Start

(Grayson Waller x Female Reader)

Summary: Y/N finally tells Grayson about her feelings for him and it goes in a way she didn't expect.

(Warnings: Shitty summary and kinda rushed ending, two idiots in love, some cursing, Liv and Austin being icons.)

Y/N sat on one of the crates, opening her water bottle as she had just finished her match.

Her and Dakota faced against eachother, Y/N coming out on top.

Just right as she was still drinking her water, there came the face she had wanted to see, the person who made her smile and blush till she felt like a high school girl with a crush.

"Y/N/N! Congrats on your match." Grayson had said, walking up to her with some food from catering and a vending machine before giving her a hug that she returned back.

"Thank you." Y/N said quietly. She ate the food very eagerly due to her hunger. Not eating before the show or during.

Her and Grayson had been good friends since their NXT days, Y/N falling for the Australian ever since they met and falling even more in love every day after.

The two had grown very close and cared for each other dearly.

Grayson was more outgoing and very much an extrovert. Y/N liked to keep to herself, didn't like going out and was more of an introvert.

"Hey, do you wanna order takeout when we get back to the hotel?" Grayson asked in his Australian accent, making Y/N go weak.

"Um, sure why not." Y/N said, keeping a cool composure.

Grayson smiled at her, making Y/N smiled back automatically, blushing just a little (or a lot).

Grayson had sat next to her, leaning to rest his head on her shoulder.

Y/N smiled and then leaned her head on his.

Just very friendly things...

"I like your gear." Y/N said making Grayson look down at his gear with a smile.

"T-thank you!" Grayson said in a stuttering mess, making Y/N concerned.

"You okay, Gray?" Y/N asked, using his nickname.

Before Grayson could answer, a familiar voice interrupted.

"Y/N!" Liv had said giving Y/N a big hug that Y/N returned.

"I saw your match and you did absolutely amazing!" Liv said making Y/N jump off the crate and slightly nod.

Liv looked at Grayson and at Y/N before holding her hands up. "Looks like I interrupted some time between you and your boyfriend, sorry!" Liv apologized making Y/N rub her face and making Grayson start smiling.

"I'll see you later, Grayson." Y/N said, looking like a red tomato and waved bye.

Grayson frowned a little but ultimately said bye as well.

"Okay, I didn't even do anything wrong, I said the truth." Liv said and Y/N crossed her arms.

"We're not dating! And as much as I would like that, you know he doesn't feel the same way." Y/N said and Liv looked at her confused.

"Y/N, you can't be serious right now." Liv said and Y/N shrugged her shoulders.

"I am. He doesn't like me back and that's fine. I don't wanna ruin years worth of friendship just because I have a crush on him." Y/N said with a frown.

"Girl. You do realize he feels the same right?" Liv asked, making Y/N shake her head.

"I can give you multiple reasons on why I think so!" Liv said before going on a rant making Y/N listen.

Even though Y/N acted like she wasn't interested. Deep deep down, she hoped Liv's reason were true.

"I hope you know that you talk about this man NONSTOP. Pretty much half of our messages is you talking about how much you love him and want him. Well, I'm here to tell you why you should shoot your shot BECAUSE HE LIKES YOU BACK!" Liv said in a frustrated tone making Y/N jump just a little.

"1, when me and Naomi are on the topic of you guys," "Wait you guys talk about us?" "Not important, anyways." Liv continues. "We both notice how much he listens to you when you talk. Not like how a normal guy listens like this man is INVESTED and he always looks at you with those fucking heart eyes." Liv says making Y/N confused.

"Number 2, who got you matching bracelets for your birthday, AND took you to the mall to go on a shopping spree, not minding how much money you spent?" Liv asked making Y/N look down.

"Gray." Y/N whispered. Liv smiled a she proved even more of her point.

"And who gave you matching bracelets in NXT which you are still wearing today?" Liv asked another question making Y/N scoff.

"Gray." Y/N answered once again, showing her wrist that showed the bracelet.

"You can stop this rant-" "I am not done until you say you will tell him." Liv stated making Y/N groan.

"He gets you food almost every day, he literally carried you everywhere when you injured your leg even though you had crunches, even Triple H thought you guys were dating, and then, this man lets you hold his man just because you're nervous-" "Fine, fine! I'll tell him." Y/N said in defeat making Liv jump and down in excitement.

"Yes! Oh my gosh, FINALLY!" Liv says jumping and down, clapping her hands.

"Alright, Liv, chill." Y/N says while Liv takes some breathes before finally calming down.

"It's that obvious?" Y/N asks, looking at Liv.

"Yes. It is that obvious. He even talks to Austin so much about you to the point where Austin calls you Grayson's girlfriend." Liv says making Y/N blush a little and smile.

"And according to Austin, Grayson doesn't correct him." Y/N looks up at Liv.

"Gosh, if you keep telling me this, I'll die of being too flustered." Y/N said before covering her face as she was blushing and smiling too hard.

"When you're not around, the man complains to Austin 24/7 about how much he missed you."

"STOP-"

-

"You still have that?" Y/N pointed to the little wristband that she made for Grayson years ago.

"Yeah, I wear it everyday and pretty much everywhere." Grayson said, holding the door open for Y/N as they walked into the hotel.

"You didn't notice?" Grayson asked making Y/N shake her head.

"No, I thought you had lost it." Y/N said as they got to the counter, booking their room.

"Imagine if they give us the honeymoon room again." Grayson says, making Y/N let out a laugh.

"That was something." Y/N said, shaking her head in a smile as they went toward the elevator.

They entered the elevator, continuing their conversation.

She always made eye contact with him during conversations even though it made her super nervous. But she loved the way they looked and always smiled at least once during every conversation they had.

She always took his features into deep thought.

Just as they were talking, Y/N had remembered what she promised Liv and immediately groaned, rubbing her face.

"Y/N/N, you okay?" Grayson asked, putting his hand on her shoulder make her relax.

"Um yeah, but I kind of wanted to talk to you about something." Y/N said, facing her fears.

"What is it-" A loud sound had interrupted him, making Y/N and Grayson.

"What just happened?!" Y/N asked in a loud tone, looking around.

"Did the elevator get stuck?!" Grayson asked, also looking around.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now." Y/N said stressed, making her grab Grayson's hand.

Grayson held her hand, squeezing it and making them look at each other.

"It's going to be okay, they'll fix it." Grayson said, trying to calm her down even though he was terrible at it.

"You're right." Y/N said before taking some deep breathes but never letting go of his hand.

The two stood in silence. Still holding one another's hand.

Until Grayson broke the silence.

"What were you going to tell me?" He asked, squeezing her hand again as she looked at him.

"I'm going to try and tell you in the best way I can but you make me super nervous and I just-" Y/N paused.

"I just what?" Grayson asked quietly.

"I like you, more than a friend should." Y/N quickly blurted out.

"I've liked you from the start and the feeling has gotten stronger ever since and I understand if you don't feel the same or if you just wanna be friends I'm really sorry-" While Y/N rushed, before she could finish, she felt those soft lips she had always wanted to kiss against hers.

Y/N kissed him back immediately. Not wanting the moment to end ever.

Until Grayson had to pull away.

"Well, if that doesn't tell you that I feel the same way, I don't know what will." Grayson said in his accent that kept making her go weak.

"I'm still a little... shocked that you feel the same, didn't even realize." Y/N said.

"I thought I was being obvious, I kept dropping hints!" Grayson said making Y/N scrunch her eyebrows in confusion.

"I talk about you so much where Austin has to deal with it everyday. He calls you my girlfriend cause I always talk about you!" Grayson said.

'Well, Liv did tell me that.' Y/N thought.

"Everytime we were away, I always fell asleep on the phone with you and every time I see you, I feel like eyes turn into hearts." Grayson continues making Y/N blush.

"I tried giving you hints but I was too damn awkward." Y/N defended herself.

"You know how shy I am, Gray" Y/N says making Grayson smile and nod.

"I do, and every single time you opened up to me or revealed something about yourself, it gave me more reasons on why I love you." Y/N blushed even more at his statement before giving him a look.

"How long have you felt this way?" Y/N asked him.

"Since we met-" "I could have told you this whole time?!" Y/N shouted.

Grayson laughed and nodded before hugging Y/N.

She hugged back and looked up at him. He looked down at her with their eyes locking and leaned in.

He kissed her with such passion that it made her melt as she kissed him back.

She held onto him as the two continued to kiss but both of them didn't hear anything as they felt like they were in a different world when with one another.

And especially didn't hear the elevator door opening.

"OH MY GOSH!" Liv shouted, making Grayson and Y/N pull away, looking to see Liv and Austin standing next to each other.

"YOU OWE ME 50 BUCKS THEORY!" Liv shouted once again and Austin groaned.

"You guys couldn't have waited one more week?" Austin asked as he pulled a 50 dollar bill from his wallet, giving it to Liv as she danced in a celebration.

"I mean if it wasn't for Liv, I still would be dreaming my fantasies with him away." Y/N said making Grayson start blushing.

Grayson and Y/N stepped out of the elevator while Liv and Austin got in. Everyone said goodbye to eachother while the elevator closed and once again, Y/N and Grayson were alone again.

"Does this make us a couple?" Grayson asked and Y/N nodded her head.

"I hope so. I want to be your girlfriend." Y/N said with another smile as she kissed Grayson again.

"And I want to be your boyfriend." Grayson said, kissing her back while she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Then, we're together, Gray." She whispered and leaned in for another kiss which Grayson immediately obliged too.

The End ♡

[mazzystar24]

What I don't get is why people think it's problematic to still wish for Buddie. Like isn't it worse to be happy just because he's with a dude now. Like so you didn't ship Buddie for their amazing chemistry and history, you just shipped them because they were two hot dudes.

(This is not directed at people who are enjoying Tevan for the ride, this is about people who jumped completely)

((obviously bi Buck is important, but I don't think seeing it as a step towards Buddie is bad. We've been waiting for something like this for so many years))

Sorry but this is all that’s in my head^^

But yes yay now I get to have my rant-

The fact that so many people genuinely just wanted buck to end up with a dude is just

Look there is wanting representation which I GET I am all for

Then there is not caring about anything to do with that representation as long as you see two hot guys kiss

Representation without substance, meaning and actually changing what we usually see on screen is just so surface level

and listen we are ALL guilty of that thing where we hear about a show with a queer couple and we instantly get excited and rush over there but some of these people don’t give a shit about the storylines as a whole, the characters as a whole, character development, etc all those things that make representation MATTER

Like we aren’t just happy that bi buck is canon because oh look here’s a bi man character

No we are happy because we got to see his development we got to see his insecurities, history, his personality and his bond with these other characters through the years. Now look I’m not saying oh look at this fictional character think about his feelings, I’m saying that characters and their complexities drive a story they are what make me invested whether it’s a book a movie or show, and to not care about any of that just for the sake of tokenism is insane to me

I also feel it bares mentioning that this is one of the RARE times that this representation in media isn’t a case of tokenism like they’ve taken a character and built him and built the show and built the dynamics outside of his sexuality and made it canon in season SEVEN like Tim and Oliver and the entire team did something we don’t see much or ANY of in media like the way they made it is like we have this journey with the character like it’s a double blind test ( sorry I’m revising for a psych exam rn and my brain can only use that analogy) and until the reveal seven years in we don’t know for sure even if there have been inklings and people are more focused on the fact that oh look some hot dude kisses another in this show

Like genuinely ship what you want to ship and enjoy the time but don’t disregard meaningful potential representation which would have 1. A character navigating sexuality in a situation as complex as Eddie’s 2. A gay couple which wasn’t planned and they actually listened to fans for 3. A well done queer slow burn with the same gravity and meaningfulness that straight slowburns get

Thank you for the opportunity to rant anon🫡

Sorry for the long ass reply😭😭

Edit: also wanna add that yes I’m in analysing media mode because I also have sociology revision on representation in media🤭🤭

[suzukiblu]

I know it's totally wrong for what you're shooting for but your stories make me feel bad for Clark. All these folks judging him, when as far as he can tell Kon doesn't even want to be around him. And honestly, he's had clones before. No one expected him to mourn when a Bizarro degraded

. . . okay, friend, first off I apologize, because I def got carried away with this response and it turned into a bit of a rant, hah. Please don't take any of this the wrong way or get the impression I'm annoyed by this ask or anything, I just fundamentally disagree with SO many things about how Clark's relationship with Kon has been handled in canon and apparently I had to word-vomit a lot of that out here and now in explanation of why I tend to write Clark as being Objectively Wrong about Kon/how he treats Kon.

A) There's no convincing reason I can think of that Clark should think Kon doesn't want to be around him, and if he DID, why would he have given him permission to wear the El crest to begin with, much less offered him either the name "Superboy" or "Kon-El"? Especially Kon-El, because that's a name that originated from a specifically ADOPTED member of his birth family, and Clark offered it to him while CALLING him family, but also . . . lying to him about having a secret identity? And whole-ass other life??

and also

B) I actually WOULD expect Clark to mourn a Bizarro degrading. That's like his whole deal, in my experience of him across various media: Clark Kent is a person who thinks that every person matters and is undeniably the kind of guy that would be upset by someone suffering from genetically-inevitable degradation. Especially if the people suffering that degradation only exist to suffer it because HE, Clark "I Am Personally Responsible For This Whole Damn Planet, And Yes That IS A Threat" Kent, exists.

Like, Clark always takes way too much on himself. So it doesn't really make sense to me that a dude like that would take one look at a kid with his own face who is actually at best about a month old and just decide "yeah, this person doesn't need me ever involved in their life at all" and STICK with that assessment even through repeated problems, near-death experiences, and straight-up disasters. ESPECIALLY because Clark already knew Matrix, and she was ALSO a genetic experiment who'd been made in his image by someone he didn't have any reason to trust. But he still took Mae to his parents' farm and let her live there pretty much immediately, trusted her with SO many of his secrets and even trusted her living with his parents without, again, having to jump through ANY of the MULTITUDE of hoops that Kon did to earn a similar level of trust, and she eventually started dating literal LEX LUTHOR and Clark still trusted her after THAT!

( I mean, I think everyone thought Lex was his own son at the time or something weird like that, Because Comics, but still! STILL!! )

Shit, Clark still trusted Mae after she had a mental breakdown ON HIS PARENTS and tried to attack him and had a severe enough psychotic break that she thought she literally WAS him! Mae very quickly proved herself to be WAY more dangerous and hostile than Kon has EVER been outside of being directly mind-controlled, but from the jump Clark is way more invested in her and her life and CARES way more about her and her life. And later he responds to Kara just as differently as he did Mae, despite her ALSO debuting as both a more dangerous and more hostile person than Kon. So like . . . there's a bit of a double-standard going there, it kind of feels like? Like, at least on a meta-level. And I'm sure most of it's editorial nonsense and the kind of narrative problems that lie inherent in like . . . what, thirty-plus years of comic history and about eight bajillion different writers and the like, obviously, but it just is REAL hard to justify that behavior in the actual narrative when Clark Kent is meant to be the moral paragon that the entire damn rest of the DC universe is meant to set its metaphorical watch by.

Either way, though, I'm usually trying to write Clark as either sympathetic or at least understandable in his logic, even when it's flawed, so I wouldn't really say it's "wrong" if you feel sympathy for him while reading my writing. Like, I'm not saying he's in the right in those specific fics, but I do still want to be empathetic to his point of view. It is again just REALLY hard for me to explain a lot of Clark's canon relationship with Kon in any way other than "benign neglect due to just deliberately assuming that all Kryptonians are always Perfectly Fine, Thanks due to his own personal issues about what 'Superman' represents", and that's the KIND option.

Long story short, I really just don't care what DC says, It is NOT on the brand-new teenager with zero life experience who Clark deliberately LET put an S-shield-shaped target on their back to single-handedly foster a relationship with the perfect superhero idol that most of the damn world looks up to. I genuinely cannot think of a single significant occasion where Clark ever does anything for Kon that involves CLARK having to put in any kind of recurring effort, but we're supposed to accept that KON has to earn scraps of Clark's attention and the right to be considered a part of his family over and over again--while Clark, again, doesn't have to do anything to earn Kon's attention or the right to be considered a part of HIS family? Ever? Even ONCE??

Relationships are two-way streets, DC! That's just how relationships are, DC!! Otherwise it's just parasocial bullshit or someone taking advantage of someone else, DC!!!!

Don't get me wrong, I really love Clark, I think he's a great character in a lot of fascinating ways and that he is VERY interesting and affecting when he's done well ("you can do anything you want, and all you want to do is help people" HELLO CRYING IN THE CLUB RN), but like . . . come on, DC, what the fuck and WHY?

[rei-ismyname]

Ororo, how did you get here?

I wonder if we'll get a solid, in character explanation for why Storm would become a cop (Avenger) again. I'm writing an analysis on From The Ashes (so far) and while I'm clear-eyed about where most characters and books are at, I really need to know if they're even going to bother explaining why Storm would leave Arakko (oh yeah, there's still a million mutants on the red planet) and if they do to what degree. Sure she can just bail off screen but it'd be deeply out of character. She's a member of the Great Ring (or at least she was, occupying Magneto's empty Seat of Loss after she yielded the Regency to Lodus Logos.) She's the most impactful political and cultural figure in a generation. She was the leader of the winning faction in the Genesis War. She had a lover, who was caring for two orphans. I think they were living together. She was happy. I can't recall any ties to Atlanta, but it doesn't really matter. Without serious explanation she's going to look fickle, like she's shirking her duty. A duty she chose, too. Fought multiple wars over. She's getting a solo book, there's totally room to do it properly.

The other big ting for me is Magneto. The First Krakoan age put him through the ringer - his character arc was objectively given the most attention and subjectively the most satisfying. Even without Uncanny X-Men #700 he was poised to shake up the status quo but when you include his chat with Charles that's a promise. A promise that needs to be paid off. Not just any old promise either - it's an ideological breakthrough five decades in the making! He's been kept in the background so far and I haven't really been able to judge whether that promise is being kept or not. I hope so but my expectations are low. It would be such tonal whiplash I can't even think of an analogy.

Interestingly both Max and Ororo were Of Arakko last time we got a close look. Magneto died defending Arakko, he has friends there. He is literally one of the society's heroes for slaying Tarn the Uncaring and The Hour Of Magneto/Judgement Day.

Yeah, that's right. *AIR HORN* *PUMPS FIST* He cares about the Arakki and they care about him. He'd want to pay his respects to the Fisher King and generally see how it's going. He lost his place on the Great Ring when he died and Vulcan blew up his house, but neither are especially important. Both planet and culture are dear to him. After X of Swords, in that brief period when the Arakki were on Earth, it was Magneto meeting with Isca about teething problems. 'Twas Magneto who spearheaded the Terraforming Operation, handling the communication/logistics and harvesting enough iron to bring the planet to life from the Khyber Belt. While he was doing that, Ororo was fighting Nameless to the death for the Noontide Seat.

I could honestly go on, but my point is these two especially are invested. (Roberto Da Costa too, but it seems the New Mutants are represented by Magik alone and Cypher looking like an idiot.) If that continuity is disregarded I'm going to have a problem with it. Honestly, if Arakko is there and not being used in any stories I'll be scratching my head. How do you go from terraforming planets to hated and feared on Earth as anything other than a regression? The geopolitical implications of it being there pretty much break the world they're selling us. They're telling us it's so dangerous for mutants that they're developing secret hand signals and Underground Railroad'ing. At least some mutants would move to fucking Mars. All countries would be at Defcon 1. Did the entire galactic council just forget Sol exists?

I'll stop there, save some for the actual essay instead of the rant lol. If you're enjoying it I couldn't be happier for you. I am struggling to, though, and I'm very wary of heartbreak. Maybe that's on me for how I manage my expectations. We shall see.

[cringelordofchaos]

Common ADHD traits/experiences I've heard of !!

(I was gonna make a post about why I might be neurodivergent but I figured it'd be going a bit too personal. Also this is just easier)

(ADHD is much more nuanced and complex than I may make it appear in this post. A lot of ADHD people don't have a lot of these traits or have traits not mentioned here. For example there are three types of ADHD (inattentive, hyperactive and combined) and most inattentive adhders are not going to be hyperactive lol)

Warning: badly worded (I'm stupid that's my excuse). also I'll go on personal rants as to how some of these may apply to me (whilst I can reasonate with each point listed here I won't go on a rat on all of these)

Physical hyperactivity (inability to sit/stand still (I used to think this meant that people with ADHD were incapable of. Sitting down (while constantly fidgeting or not) for one whole class)(I was an idiot)(I still am)). (Just overall constant , movement (I might have it idk I'm ALWAYS

Excessive talking

Stimming, fidgeting, general and overall repetitive movements (such as flapping hands, pacing, clasping hands together, etc)

Low attention span regarding things that don't garner much interest to you

More likely to be autistic, have anxiety or depression (or generally have other diagnostic conditions)

Ability to Hyperfocus on specific things, at times out of their control

More likely to have a lower Performance in school that most people

Proneness to addiction

Rejection sensitive dysphoria/RSD (really sensitive and afraid to rejection or criticism or disapproval or stuff like that. I'm questioning if I have it and I'm pretty sure I do bc i would have a whole breakdown bc i accidentally had a bad unintentional thought about this cool person I didn't want to hate me)(it's complicated)

Emotional disregulation (easily irritable, excited, stressed, stronger emotions, more likely to lash out, etc)(people with this are usually described to be much more emotional)

restless leg syndrome (except it's permanent lol)

Lower memory spans regarding most things

Forgetting to fulfill basic needs (such as eating, drinking, showering, etc)

Women/AFAB people are more likely to be diagnosed with inattentive ADHD (this of course does not rucking mean afab people can't b hyperactive my god)

Mental hyperactivity (racing/constant/overlapping/repetitive thoughts or stuff like that)

Impulsivity (doing stuff without thinking them fully though or not knowing why)

Sensory issues (sensitivity to sensory output such as noise, brightness, etc)

Easily bored/underwhelmed/understimulated - more likely to want to seek constant dopamine (due to l

Easily overwhelmed (whether itd be due to aforementioned sensory issues, emotional disregulation, rsd or stuff like that)

More likely to be perceived as "childish" (from what I've heard obviously this and many other things listed here don't apply to everyone)

Executive dysfunction (can't do shit at all)(ok it's more complicated than that just Google it up or something)

Having Hyperfixations (things you're DEEPLY invested in for a period of time, it can be a few days, weeks, months, sometimes more than a year, depends rly)(I'm still questioning if I'm neurodivergent but like I'm pretty sure I was in a DEEP hyperfixation mode when it came to sonic for like. A YEAR. like I literally it was literally the only thing on my brain the only thing in my life. and I would get realllytyy excited about learning obscure information about it or infodumping and I would flap my hands bc of how excited and passionate I was Abt it)(man I miss the times when I was so passionate about stuff I liked it was so fun :(( )

Higher/lower levels of empathy (I've seen this moreso been brought up with discussions regarding autism but I've also seen it brought up with ADHD itself too)

Lower levels of dopamine

Impatience

More likely to be a maladaptive daydreamer

Its cause is usually heavily genetic (meaning if your family or a family member has ADHD, you are more likely to have ADHD yourself)

More likely to have insomniac/have general problems with sleep (I'm questioning ADHD. I'm writing this like... Five hours before I'm supposed to wake up for school. Great.)

There is also a higher relevance between ADHD and PTSD

If I missed something important let me know!! Also if you don't know some of he

This post is not meant to be used as a substitute for self nor professional diagnosis, though if you feel like you might have ADHD because of this post I recommend further research and conversations with trusted advisors such as parental figures or therapists/doctors (not me not listening to my own advice)(<- that was me regarding my latter advice)(I'm too scared to tell my parents about it man)(idk why)

Things to note:

ADHD is not just about little elementary school hyperactive white boys !!

There's a lot of things I mightve missed

Not everyone with ADHD has all these traits (obviously)

Some of these traits may be common due to the commonness of ADHD + autism overlap (idk though)

Apparently it's one of the most diagnosed forms of neurodivergence in kids (about 7-10% of kids in the USA are diagnosed with ADHD)(APPARENTLY idk)

There's more but I'm tired right now byeeee

[dnalt-d2]

Recent Egg Developments, How I Feel About It, and What I'm Doing After

Alright I'm gonna stop being sad for like two minutes, or at least long enough to explain what exactly happened for those who missed it

So we had the Murder Mystery Event today, and a lot of people showed up. It was really fun, and we really enjoyed it

And then, after it was over, Richarlyson informed us that he was leaving QSMP. He did not give a reason as far as I know, and I don't think it's smart or fair to speculate. I have my own ideas as to why, but I know that sharing them wouldn't be productive

Not long after, over on Phil's stream, Chayanne and Lullah informed us that they were leaving as well. They did talk pretty vaguely about "The next time they wake up," but this could have likely been some flowery language and not literal. There's a strong chance they will not wake up in QSMP again

As of now, Pepito and Leo are the only Eggs confirmed to still be part of the project, but I'm not really sure what the future will hold for them

Like I said before, I am personally hoping this is a sort of indefinite hiatus. Like they're leaving and there's a strong chance they won't come back, but there could be a non-zero chance sometime in the future. I would not get my hopes up for this though, because the chances of that happening are most likely very slim

I am honestly really sad about this development, but we all knew this couldn't last forever. I wish we had a better resolution, but this is how things are for now. I don't know if this is related to the Admin Situation or not, but again, since that hasn't been confirmed, we shouldn't speculate. It's just as possible that they felt they were done with this chapter of their life, which is entirely fair. I will never hold this decision against them, and I really hope others don't either. I wish them the best, and I wish you all the best as well, QSMPblr

Because I'm honestly not sure where I'm gonna go from here. Chayanne and Lullah were a huge reason I was so invested with QSMP, and the same goes for all the other Eggs. And while I'd love to say that I'll definitely stick around 100%, I'm just not sure I'll do that. I guess we'll see, but if I start petering out after this, know that I had a hell of a time over here

I've never been part of a fandom to this capacity before, and I had a hell of a time. Theorizing, ranting, sharing my thoughts, it was all a blast. And I wanna say that I might not have interacted with others due to anxiety, but I was always so happy to see that people liked what I had to say, and seeing that some people were coming back for it, or going through my blog and liking everything. I may have never said anything, but I saw you, and I appreciate you all so much

I might start talking about more non-QSMP Stuff here too, so if anyone who followed me JUST for QSMP, sorry. But I don't want this blog to die out, because it's been such a fun chapter for me. It might be a new chapter now, but I'm still gonna be here for it

Thanks again everyone. Thanks Egg Admins, Non-Egg Admins, QSMP Creators, QSMPblr, and Everyone else in-between

And of course, Thanks Quackity, for making such an incredible experience

It's been a wild ride

[justine1268]

Genuine Question About Broppy getting Children In The Future... (long rant incoming)

Am I the only one who really wouldn't like an accidental/"surprise"/ unexpected/unwanted/unplanned/unintended Broppy child in future canon and who isn't really all that overjoyed about the idea of them having one in the future in general? I want to know.

I kind of feel like the only one because I haven't seen anyone else be so genuinely confused as to why the first situation is such a widespread and beloved thing in the fandom. If you do, please feel free to let me know what you find so appealing about it, because I'm not so sure I understand in all honesty and I want to get it.

I want to say that I really don't mean to come across as rude or hateful towards anyone who created Broppy children that would fit into the current canon who were unplanned! I just want to give my own perspective on it and why I personally feel iffy about that scenario.

A lot of my opinion here is also related to my personal attachment towards the ship itself. It's the first one I've had and for more than 7 years at the time of writing this, they've consistently been part of my life during this time. It's the ship I've been invested in the most.

The reason why I'm worried about this is because in Shrek, an other DreamWorks franchise, him and his wife had unexpected children. If they decide to make an other story like this:

Branch and Poppy is one of their few romantic relationships from ongoing franchises and a very popular one at the moment, so it could be with them.

There's a multitude of reasons why I rather have them want and desire a child before it happens and also to have it be almost a last part of the franchise addition. Like, one of the last things we get out of their relationship.

If it happens accidentally, depending on the context, it could likely be because they weren't careful. I feel like this is especially out of Branch's character. We know one of his major traits is making things the safest possible, he's hectic whenever something could be trouble. I think he probably would put action to avoid getting an unwanted egg as much as he could. We know Poppy can be kind of reckless, but she listens to Branch now and I don't think she is enough to not do any prevention and roll with it. She loves to throw herself head first into danger, but when she truly thinks she'll be okay. If she knows her own safety or well-being are really at risk, she takes it more seriously.

Obviously, putting characters through tough situations is the whole point of a storyline, but when it comes to them getting a child, it is something that (I'm assuming because we don't really know much about that yet) they CAN or at least should be able to control so...I think they should.

I don't want them having a toddler to get in the way of their relationship. I want lots more of just them two. A toddler, unless they don't show up for much, would take up a lot of moments that would otherwise be only with them. I want to get a lot more moments of solely them and focusing on their relationship with each other before a baby comes in!

Their characters, if, let's say, an infant or egg is with them during most events of a movie, I believe would be reduced to having to meet their needs. They're now tied down to needing to care for them and they lose that freedom they currently have. They'll have to be like "Ah, no, can't do that, got a baby." I don't want that.

I find it still way too early in canon for them to have children and that they should really be able to enjoy their time together and with their loved ones for now. Considering all Branch has gone through and the years he spent alone, being at such a low point, I don't want him to have the added responsibility, stress and worries of a parent so soon. I want him to be able to just have good times and hang out with his friends, girlfriend and family.

Both him and Poppy are so busy already, not to mention Branch is a person who really needs alone time. Give him a baby and that's going to be a whole lot harder.

It doesn't even seem to me like it's something they want in the future for now. Branch wants to marry Poppy, we already know that, but neither of them have ever mentioned wanting to have kids someday. Poppy already works with little trolls and loves it, but she has never said she wants one herself someday. Branch doesn't seem like it's crossing his mind. All he wants is to be Poppy's significant other.

I don't want a "surprise" Broppy kid and not know what went wrong or why it was so. If it's like Shrek, they'll leave that part ambiguous and I am not going to be happy about that. If they're going down that road, I at least want to know if they were intending on being careful at all. (Obviously brought up in a way that's appropriate for PG content).

Kids being raised by parents who didn't want them to arrive isn't ideal to me. Yes, parents can have regrets on deciding to have children in a way down the line and it doesn't mean they'll do a bad job, I agree the ship would make awesome parents, but it can be a lot more difficult thanks to that.

Look. I love the idea of them having little ones someday, I really do! I just wish it to happen way later on in the timeline than now, and most of all, I seriously want them to intend and want to have a baby before they do (we'll likely know if it's accidental, since, like I said, they did that in Shrek).

Scenarios I'd appreciate in canon:

1- They get married or just engaged in whichever next installment we'll get or stay only a couple and have a child or children that they planned on having years later.

2- They adopt a child/children which they either stumble upon or meet at an orphanage. They still look like their own, their colors being a sort of mix between Branch and Poppy's possible colors and being pop trolls (honestly, my favorite idea for a Broppy child).

3- It arrives at least a couple years after their romantic relationship has started (either still a committed couple, engaged or married), it wasn't intended or expected at all, from an unknowingly failed appropriate prevention method. They would be suggested the opportunity to abort, but they choose to keep their egg/eggs that resulted and raise them.

Scenarios I don't want:

1- It's a Shrek The Third 2.0 where it's left very ambiguous what happened with any time jump or none.

2- Unwanted egg from not trying to prevent it, no time jump at all. They have to raise their child/children as the early official couple they are now.

3- A baby/babies they didn't want and weren't careful for with a truly effective method, years or not after they're made official.

4- The child wasn't really wanted from both sides. Either one of them wasn't actually happy about the idea.

If we mostly get content of them out of the newborn stage (between about 5-18 years old), we get to know them once they already have built a personality. The child also has some amount of autonomy so the parents won't have to impose as much and we can still get only them both interacting pretty often. Kind of like in How To Train Your Dragon where Nuffink and Zephyr were already kids when we met them.

I think that's the idea I'd enjoy the most. Branch and Poppy wouldn't be tied down as much(also yes I'd want to see them getting older. Something so bittersweet in seeing a long time ship of mine age together...chef's kiss with that.) I'd get attached to the child a lot more easily as a character and I'd just love to see how the couple handles their youth.

Like I said: I do see lots of positives. I love the idea of them getting a child to build sweet, deep bonds with. The idea of caring, super invested dad Branch makes me melt. Him getting through that has something that can beautiful and powerful considering his story. It adds another person for him to love. A lot of wholesomeness and emotions to be explored! It can bring more to his relationship with Poppy as well! A supportive dynamic that's always ready to advise each other and to work through when it gets harder...yeah. It's simply great! It's a good foundation for a child to grow up on.

I just have some preferences for how it happens. Thank you for reading my long opinion piece!

[spiri-a]

Spiri’s A Tale Of Crowns Rant: Wait, Uh Oh, AITA??

Okay okay okay so for those who don’t know: yes sometimes I play dating sims (free indie ones I’m not that bad). They’re usually just one off stunts that make a weekend more interesting but I recently found one that has literally consumed my ENTIRE LIFE (LIKE, IT IS ALL I THINK ABOUT) and that sim is called A Tale of Crowns made by @ataleofcrowns

I LOVE A Tale of Crowns. The lore and writing is SO FREAKING AMAZING and the love interests are EVERYTHING and it is honestly SUCH a refreshing take on dating sims that I love with all my heart. I have been telling EVERYONE who can listen about AToC in hopes of being able to discuss it with someone. (AToC is a dating sim right?? I think so??)

But anyways, the reason I started writing this wasn’t JUST to gush. Admittedly this all started because of something weird happening to me and me needing to empty out all the complex feelings here. So um here it is:

So basically my very very first run of the game a couple weeks ago I decided that this run would be an honest, very personal run. That means no looking up the correct options, no going back and changing your mind (unless it was an honest mistake), and choosing what I personally think is the best option. No matter what kinds of catastrophic events occur, I just have to deal with it. I also made sure to avoid looking at any forums or posts indicating anything about how the game works.

In this run, I romanced Xelara, who I was honestly absolutely smitten with 😭 Anyways yall don’t need to know the details but basically I kissed the girl in Ch11 and was absolutely on cloud nine when afterwards I finally read all the forums and posts I had been avoiding before.

And then I learned that I actually got the low romance route ._.

For those that don’t know, this basically means I was umm…… actually not a very good person to Xelara. Like, everyone basically agrees the player is actually kind of terrible to her in this route.

And honestly the first thing I felt was really guilty. Like, heart crushing guilt. Horrible awful lingering guilt about how I treated a fictional character (though admittedly one I care about a lot). And then I found myself thinking: “Wait, am I a bad person??”

I moped around for the rest of the day trying to understand why I felt so icky and really just being half confused half guilty. Honestly I don’t really know what happened but my best guess is:

I invested several SEVERAL hours into this run (since it was my very first go), so I treasured it a lot

Not knowing the alternative route (or how the game worked), I assumed that my run seemed to be going really well (with bad stuff happening just being written in anyway) only to then discover it actually wasn’t

In this run, I was basically playing as me. I chose what I thought was the best options and what I genuinely thought was the best things to do or say to Xelara. Thats why when I found out that they were actually very much the wrong things to say, I felt like it was a reflection of me

Now keep in mind this has NEVER ONCE felt like an ATTACK OF ANY KIND. I don’t in any way feel like I am being called a bad person. I still love AToC with all my heart and this has not affected it in any way. This is just me ranting after catching complicated feelings, and I’m pretty sure this is just me taking the hurt feelings of a fictional character unreasonably seriously and spiraling downward into concerned self reflection with a hint of desire for self improvement.

To be honest, I don’t even remember a lot of the things I chose to say to Xelara, I just know that it all added up into being very wrong. What exactly happened, I’m not sure. Maybe I didn’t understand the difference between different options? Maybe I was just bad at figuring out the subtext behind Xelara’s scenes? Maybe I was just bad at reading Xelara in general? Maybe I genuinely need to think about some of the stuff I personally say and do? Regardless it’s something for me to think about.

Anyways, it’s just something that I’ve been stewing about recently and wanted to share for transparency’s sake. Because once again I want to clarify that NONE of these bad vibes are aimed anywhere NEAR AToC. I played several more runs after this happened and had the time of my life. This is 100% me just ranting to get the bad icky energy out of my system, but I’m kinda glad I did. Ranting on tumblr is a good outlet.

I’m probably gonna keep going with that first run once Ch12 comes out, but this is probably still gonna be a bit of a tender spot, and I’ll probably end up walking on eggshells in that run now.

But that’s fine. I’m really genuinely not too bothered anymore, I just wanted to share something that I was feeling a lot of stuff about a while ago, and also partly just in case any elusive fellow AToC fans can relate to this.

If you read this whole thing, first of all that’s very flattering that you put in all that effort and, if you don’t think I’m crazy based on this post, let’s talk about AToC together!

(Of course though, I am expecting absolutely no response to this post. I am but a single post in the vast sea of Tumblr and that’s alright too. Okay now I’m gonna go back to drawing one of my fan crowns like a nerd bye.)

[abbzworld]

Devotion

This was written for a Secret Santa event over on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy your present, @snorpy-fizzlebean! Sorry that it’s late. ^^;

Also, a minor disclaimer; I’ve never seen Twin Peaks and know basically nothing about it. So I was just making some things up at some parts of the story. Lol

Anyways, please enjoy!

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

Grump Peaks was a show that could be very confusing for Chandlo.

It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t enjoy it. The special effects were usually quite good, especially in the later seasons, and in his opinion, the characters with their struggles and relationships with each other were the best and most interesting part of the show.

He just had some trouble following along with some of the story.

For example, he didn’t understand why the bad guy was planning on unleashing a bunch of supernatural horrors onto Grump Peaks. Sure, he’d had a terrible childhood when he lived there with his alcoholic father and this was his twisted idea of getting revenge. But why didn’t he realize that his plan would also put the entire world in danger? He was supposed to be an intelligent grumpus, after all!

When he asked about it, Snorpy explained to him, “Grizby’s problem isn’t that he’s unintelligent. His problem is that he winds up getting hyper-focused on his goals to the neglect of everything else, including any common sense. Or rather, his lack thereof.”

Chandlo could understand what Snorpy was telling him, but he was still confused as to why the bad guy let things get this bad.

“Unfortunately, that happens sometimes. Take Floofty, for example. They’re trying to help grumpus kind so their goals are obviously much different from Grizby’s, but in a way, Floofty also struggles with seeing whether what they’re doing is a good idea or not. That’s why they take so many risks and don’t always foresee the consequences of their actions. I mean, just look at what happened on Snaktooth! They almost decapitated themselves just to see if their head would come back like their leg did!”

Chandlo gently wrapped an arm around his shoulders to silently comfort him as Snorpy sighed. “I am glad that they’re getting better, however. They still have a long way to go, though.”

Chandlo nodded and said, “Yeah, but that’s probably true of all of us.”

Snorpy silently nodded before he glanced at the television and got excited. “Ooh, I love this part! It’s when Aless and Ozwin join together to stop him!”

Chandlo softly chuckled, keeping his arm around Snorpy’s shoulders as they both continued to watch what was going on in the show.

In all honesty, this was the real reason he watches it despite it not entirely being his thing. He enjoys seeing how invested Snorpy always gets despite having already seen this show dozens of times.

Ever since they were kids, he’s loved Grump Peaks. He meticulously analyzes every frame and shot of the show, has very little he actively criticizes, and even though the show got an abrupt ending because of the Grumpinati, as he believes, it’s still his favorite show of all time.

Chandlo might not fully understand it sometimes, but hey, if it makes Snorpy happy then he’s happy.

Besides, Snorpy was always so adorable the more interested he gets in something. His eyes go wide with excitement, he gets a little smile on his face and Chandlo can tell that he’s committing everything to memory.

Even though he already knows what’s going to happen.

Eventually, the credits of the final episode started to roll and Chandlo yawned as Snorpy began to rant, “I still cannot believe that this show got cancelled! I mean, we never really got a conclusive answer about Aless’ and Ozwin’s relationship, and the overall conclusion was incredibly rushed! They needed at least another season to properly conclude the story but the Grumpinati wouldn’t allow that, would they?!”

Chandlo chuckled as he rubbed his boyfriend’s back. “Easy there, Snorpy-dawg. You don’t want to get too worked up, right?”

Snorpy sighed. “No… I’m sorry Chandlo. I don’t mean to get so emotional; it just really bothers me that Grump Peaks wasn’t given the finale that it truly deserved.”

Chandlo smiled at him. “No need to apologize, bro. I know how much this show means to you. It might not be my thing like it is yours but I can understand your frustration.”

Snorpy sighed again and smiled at him. “Thank you Chandlo. Truly.”

“Aw anytime, Snorpy!”

Snorpy then yawned himself before stretching a bit. “Ugh, what time is it?”

Chandlo looked at a nearby clock. “It’s almost 10 pm.”

“My word, I didn’t realize it was getting so late. We should probably head to bed then!”

Chandlo nodded. “Yeah, I agree. We both have to go to the gym in the morning so we can’t afford to be too tired.”

Snorpy agreed and so they stood up, yawning again, before they shuffled over to their shared bed.

Once they were settled in, they cuddled together and said their good nights.

About five hours later, however, Chandlo awoke to Snorpy softly whimpering.

Groggily, Chando quietly asked, “Snorpy? Hey, are you alright?”

Snorpy didn’t answer and now the whimpers were getting louder.

“No… No! Don’t eat them!”

And then it dawned on Chandlo that he was having a nightmare.

Unfortunately, they both got them frequently ever since they escaped from Snaktooth. The knowledge that the bugsnax they were eating were actually parasites that could’ve – and would’ve – killed them was quite traumatic for them.

Chandlo had no idea what would’ve happened if he’d lost Snorpy. And he was sure that Snorpy had those same thoughts about him. And considering he was already anxious even before he went to Snaktooth, said trauma and anxiety often manifested in the form of nightmares.

And unfortunately, despite how much he wished it, Shellsy was unable to concoct an herbal solution to make the nightmares go away because such a thing didn’t exist. She only knew how to allow someone to go to sleep easier, not actually banish dreams altogether.

So both Chandlo and Snorpy, as well as presumably the rest of the Krew, just had to wait and hope that the dreams would eventually fade on their own.

But regardless of that, Chandlo wasn’t going to just lie there and let Snorpy suffer on his own. He would never do that.

And so, he gently wrapped an arm around Snorpy’s waist, pulling him close.

“Shhh… It’s alright, Snorpy. I’m here.” He gently murmured into his ear, kissing his forehead. It took a few minutes of gently caressing his back, but eventually the whimpers stopped and Snorpy began to breathe easily again.

Still, Chandlo didn’t let go as he once again drifted off to sleep.

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

The next morning, they were at the breakfast table, debating on what to eat that wouldn’t remind them too much of the bugsnax. Apples and bananas were off the table, as well as anything like a cinnamon bun. They eventually settled on cereal.

As they ate, Snorpy said, “Thank you, Chandlo.”

“Hm?”

“Well…” He sighed. “I was having a nightmare last night. But I soon felt a warm and comforting presence enter my subconscious. And the nightmare left me afterwards.” He then smiled. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

Chandlo smiled and chuckled. “Guilty as charged.” He then sighed. “I know how intense those nightmares can get, so I didn’t want you suffering through one alone.”

Snorpy nodded. “Well, thank you. It’s been tough, but I’m glad that you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Same here, Snorp-dawg.”

After they’d finished their breakfast, they settled down on the couch as they had half an hour before they had to leave.

They didn’t watch anything, though. They simply cuddled against each other and talked about their plans for the day.

“…and I’m learning how to do pull-up’s better. It’s killer on the arms and abs, but I’m slowly but surely getting there.”

Chandlo smiled as he hugged Snorpy. “I’m proud of you, Snorpy. You’re doing such a good job.”

Snorpy blushed. “Ah, heh heh… Thank you.”

“And I’m really impressed with how fit and healthy you’ve gotten as a result of working out more!” Chandlo continued, finding it adorable how flustered Snorpy was getting. “I’m really proud of you, bro!”

Snorpy giggled, blushing even harder. “Awww, stop. You’re making me blush…”

Chandlo smirked at him. “I know. And I think it’s adorable.”

Snorpy made a bunch of flustered noises as Chandlo chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

Snorpy giggled again before saying, “Ah, yes. I love you too.”

They both smiled at each other before Snorpy cleared his throat and asked him, “So erm… what do you plan on doing at the gym?”

“Well, I plan on shooting some hoops. It’s fun competing against the other grumps there.”

Snorpy chuckled. “That’s nice to hear. I hope that they don’t get too competitive, though.”

“No, they don’t.” Chandlo reassured him. “It’s all in good fun.”

Snorpy nodded. “Good. I’d hate for someone to get mad at you over a basketball competition. I’ve heard how defensive grumpuses can get over sports and related events…”

“I understand what you mean, but that hasn’t happened.” Chandlo smiled at him, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “And besides, I was taught to always have good sportsmanship. My mother always made sure to teach me that as a kid.”

Snorpy nodded. “Yes, I remember that.”

“Also, it’s important to know your limits. I was always pushing myself too hard and I still struggle with that now. But rest is just as important as how many push-ups you can do in one sitting. Eggabell taught me that!”

Snorpy smiled. “I’m sure she did. She is a doctor after all!”

Chandlo grinned. “Yeah, bro! I owe a lot of my know-how to her! And to you, of course. You’ve always been there for me and your inventions are really helpful!”

Snorpy giggled again. “Heh, thank you.”

For the new few minutes, they simply sat there, cuddling each other as Snorpy listened to Chandlo’s heartbeat.

Eventually, however, they had to get up to go to the gym.

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

“Let’s see… water bottles?”

“Check.”

“Towels?”

“Check.”

“First aid kit?”

“Check.”

“And we’re both dressed in our workout gear… Awesome dawg! We’re ready to go!”

“Right behind you, love.”

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

The End

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I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did, feel free to tell me! And if you have any constructive criticism for me, you can tell me that, as well. Thank you!

[musette22]

I just spent the whole evening reading what I thought was a stucky fic (from the tags), but it ended up with Bucky with someone else, and a heartbroken Steve. It was an old fic, and the author had recieved a lot of comments from other readers who felt decieved, but they were dismissed with the argument that fic readers are spoiled with tags and should learn that a story like real life can be unpredictable. The author had originally set out to write stucky but changed their mind half way so the end pairing came out of nowhere and didn’t really make sense with the build up. I didn’t comment, but I’m sitting here asking myself if I’m wrong to be angry. Obviously writers invest a lot more time writing a fic than I do reading it, but it still was my whole evening wasted on the opposite of what I wanted. What was supposed to make me feel good made me feel like shit, and I obviously really wanted to avoid that. I have always trusted tags, but from now on I might have to skip to the end before reading to make sure. Am I entitled?

Oh darling, I am so sorry that happened to you 😔 That is so sad and disheartening, especially if you were looking for something that would make you feel good. I 100% percent understand that it made you feel frustrated and even a little angry, and no, I don't think you're entitled in this case. I do believe that tagging is a courtesy and not a duty, and I also believe everyone is allowed to write and post whatever they want, regardless of what other people may or may not want to read.

Having said that, though, I personally think that making sure that a story is appropriately tagged, at least for major triggers and pairings, is the decent thing to do. The author of this fic could have easily updated the tags to have them reflect the plot twist for any future readers, and in doing that, they could have prevented a lot of people being left disheartened or sad at the end of it. However much I want people to read my stories, I personally would not want someone to read my fic and be triggered or saddened by something it contained. In that case, I'd much rather they just skipped it and read something else.

The idea of almost intentionally disappointing my readers is so counterintuitive to me, because a huge reason why I personally read fic is to feel better, so that's what I hope to offer other people with my own fic too, you know? Of course, I know lots of people love angst and even unhappy endings, because they're cathartic or just because they make them feel things, and that's perfectly fine, too. But in that case, reading those kinds is fics is a choice - and if a fic isn't properly tagged or if it professes to be something that it's not, then a potential reader is not able to make an informed decision, and I think that's misleading and quite disrespectful of the audience. It's not a crime, but it's not very nice, is what I'm trying to say.

This author's argument about how readers should learn that stories, like life, can be unpredictable is mind-boggling to me as well, because hello, surely it can't be news to them that reading (especially fanfiction) serves as a much needed escape from real life for lots and lots of people. I'm sure there are some who read books with the purpose of being surprised or caught off guard, but I think they're a minority tbh. And again, that should be a choice. Long story short: I don't think you're wrong to be frustrated in this case, and while I'm glad to hear you didn't comment and rant at the author like some people would, if I were you, I would personally steer clear of them and their work in the future. Sending you hugs, lovely, and I hope you find something new to read that gives you everything you're looking for soon! ❤️

[applesbloominthefield]

the rookie thoughts (kinda controversial)

tw: topics of police brutality

first of all i have to say, i am an international viewer, and i just found out about the rookie a couple of weeks ago through youtube shorts, and knew i had to watch it when i saw clips of chenford.

i stand with the term ACAB through and through, and i am all for defunding the police, because unfortunately i have had my own terrible experiences with cops, even if not within the US. but come on, social media has proven once again, no matter which country or nation ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS.

so i when i found out the rookie was a cop show, i was very wary. i hate copaganda and no show or no media would ever be able to change my mind about cops being good people (still is true). but then i keep seeing these clips of chenford and i just fell in love with them. i don't know why and what about their dynamic is so attractive to me, maybe the slowburn, the black cat and golden retriever, the cold and sunshine, the yapper and the listener, the broody guy outside but a big softie on the inside and the hopeless romantic girlie?? so i decided to start watching it for the sake of Lucy Chen and Tim Bradford. let me tell you, i fell into a rabbit hole. i have never felt this way about a ship ever since middle school when i shipped dramione and sterek (both unattainable ships and not cannon btw) so imagine the euphoria of knowing chenford is canon. i truly fell in love with them, and i forgot how much happy hormones fangirling over your favorite character gives you.

i was in a bad place, and chenford and the rookie had my back, honestly.

i have to applaud the writers because they're able to make us - or me, at the very least- be invested into the lives of the ensemble of characters. let me tell you, i have been an avid series watcher ever since middle school, when my coping mechanism to weird thoughts and ideations (if you get what im saying) was to enjoy shows and hyperfixate on them so my brain gets distracted from the realities of life, and there are always characters i don't like, or characters i don't care about, or i skip over because i think they're a waste of my time, but the rookie truly made me care for and love each of the character. and i think that's a really tough thing to do.

now im new to the fandom (and honestly i dont plan to invest much time into being in the fandom anyways because being in a fandom is very exhausting and time consuming to me and i don't know if i've got that kind of energy like i had when i ran harry potter and teen wolf accounts when i was in middle school. i think i prefer to just be a fan of the show and just watch the fandom from afar but occasionally will have a couple of inputs or rants), so im familiar with people saying they hate nolan and why is the show focused too much on nolan (which... i mean the show did start out being centered around him) etc etc, which i felt the same way too when i watched s1, but truly, i have even grown fond of nolan too... and that's miracle work done by the writers, baby

i think my favorites are season 2-3 even if season 3 unfortunately got rushed by the circumstances back then (pandemic) s1 was good too in terms of plot, but my chenford heart couldn't take seeing nolan and lucy ewww. and of course i loved s5 bcs of chenford but the plot could have been better.

so those are a couple of things i think the showrunners/writers should be applauded for, now for constructive criticism... i feel the show never truly acknowledges that most if not all cops are bad (even if they insist that there are always good ones), they always scratch the surface or barely spend enough time to go deep within this topic, which i think is crucial as a cop show rather than just doing it for the sake of "woke agenda" (which i felt was their goal in s3)

you know when women say "i hate men" and men always say "not all men" and we as women would say "sure not all men, but it's always a man" i feel like it's always that kind of back and forth with The Rookie. if you are not or have never been the one being assaulted by the police, if you are not or have never been a victim of the corrupt law enforcement, if you have never felt the corruption and unfairness of law enforcement, who are you to say otherwise?

when i say and think ACAB, i mean it. even the most noble of cops for example tim bradford has been corrupted by the system due to work politics (S6) or maybe even when he was blatantly being prejudice in the pilot episode towards hispanic men (S1)??

i also think just putting poc with tragic backgrounds for main characters, to show why they want to do police work to be on the good side of things is NOT enough! that's like not even the bare minimum...

i honestly think the Professor Fiona arc was getting good, and they almost went somewhere with it, until it didn't continue in season 4 and never was even acknowledged again.

they barely scratched the surface, and im sure if the George Floyd case (may his soul rest in peace) hadn't been exposed, they woud have never even graze the topic of crooked cops

with that being said, the writers did a great job with doug stanton, because i truly wanted to punch him in the face repeatedly whenever he came on.

so what's the conclusion? i think the rookie is great when it comes to the main characters and their respective plots or character developments! but still really terrible at showing the reality of cops! because ACAB!

but i think i do understand that in the end all of this is fictional, and is a sort of getaway, but no matter how fictional, because of the coverage and platform the rookie has as a network tv show, that's also on hulu, it's important to dive deep into the realities that cops are bastards and how it has affected the lives of millions of innocent people. i think it would be the least they could do.

for me, i fully am aware that my stance on cops contradicts my love for the characters. but that's the thing, two things can be true. i still hate the police, but i love the rookie esp chenford as a ship! i guess in a sense, the rookie is a sort of guilty pleasure, and i really do hope the writers/showrunners do better on this topic so i wont feel ashamed when someone asks me what is my current fav show and i say it's a cop show.

anyways, ACAB! DEFUND THE POLICE! BLACK LIVES MATTER!