#read more just because it's super lengthy

[deerspherestudios]

I’m super curious about Atom!!!! Firstly, they’re so cute :(((( I would be so nice to them right off the bat. I could match that energy (maybe not the…liquefying people part, but I can Definitely meet the upbeat “get to know you” energy!!!!)

But I’m also curious about their little “worm transform-y” ability. There are a TON of implications to what they said about it, and I’m very interested to know which of those implications are true

So maybe I’m taking Atom too literally, but I’m pretty sure at one point they said “I can make your air.” Which, they WOULD need to make MC air, if they were to keep you in space forever. Air is limited.

But you can’t breathe in worms. So that means Atom’s worm (body?) transformation legitimately BECOMES whatever they will it to. Not just imitates. That dog food wasn’t worms, it was dog food. And the air isn’t worms, it’s air!!

And then that stretches into other questions. Could Atom take any form they wish? What would happen if they transformed all their worms? Can they feel when their worms (body??) are being transformed?

You don’t have to answer that slew of questions at the end lmao—maybe I’m reading too much into it. But!! I LOVE Atom and all the implications that their existence holds. I had a lot of fun playing the game :DD

Aaa I'm really glad you like Atom as much as you do!! I don't know if it's just new blorbo energy but I get excited to talk about them, especially in detail like this haha! I'll try to explain below the cut about their ability to create things (tw// it's long!!) but to keep it short, you're actually correct!

TLDR: Atom reconstructs their worms into different forms of matter (whether solid/liquid/gas) to produce whatever you need to survive. Because, uh,,, science. <3

Here's the lengthy explanation of what Atom can do. I'm not smart enough to explain it but I'm stealing this from another website:

Transmutation or nuclear transmutation is a process that involves a change in the nucleus of an atom. When the number of protons in the nucleus of an atom changes, the identity of that atom changes as it is turned into another element or isotope.[1] This transmutation process can be either natural or artificial.

Simplifying it further for my character, when Atom talks about being better than a planet, they kinda are! They can make anything as long as they know what it is (I've yet to come up with 'how' they discover new elements,,, it's implied in-game but I wanna flesh it out more; ask me again later keheh), and the worms that make them up is an unlimited resource/material for those exact transmutations. And if something turns into waste, like the rejected dog food, they just crunch them up to be re-used all over again.

Remember what they said about being your 'angel'? Not to be too on the nose but in a way they turned the Bidadari into your own personal terrarium, with it being the ecosystem keeping you alive in space. Which, in my personal opinion, makes the ending much more terrifying.

Here's a lightning round to answer your questions because I don't know when I'll get these kinds of questions again!!

Could Atom take any form they wish?

Nope! They're still just worms! When they 'make' something it's no longer a part of them.

2. What would happen if they transformed all their worms?

Highly unlikely to happen, but let's say for experimentation's sake Atom is forced to use up all their worms and the end result is separated from it so they can't absorb it back into themselves like the dog food. It has to leave one single organism behind, but it can't really do anything. That single organism eventually will multiply all the way back to its former (mass wriggling) glory.

3. Can they feel when their worms (body??) are being transformed?

Nope! They don't really feel anything, at the most they feel pressure and temperature changes but that's it.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TEDTALK HAVE A NICE DAY! HERE'S YOUR REWARD <3

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

In response to the Mile High Job post, I hate that Parker implies that poor flight attendant slept her way to a promotion/better shift. Her day is super weird but her cat is fine and her life is saved. That rumor, however, might stick and that didn't really feel like Leverage to me.

Agreed!

The thing with Leverage is that it's a show from the late 2000s; it feels contemporary, but actually it is a bit dated. And, like all shows, it had some problematic elements, which get a bit more Obviously Problematic as time goes by (I am just waiting for someone to write a lengthy call-out post in 5 years' time and for the Discourse to start.) For example, Tumblr loves to declare that Leverage has a "canon" throuple, but if anyone read that and then watched the show they would be profoundly disappointed - while it's a fantastic ship with a great many shippy instances, Elliot has a lot of onscreen No Homo moments, and frequently is shown sleeping with random women (I personally read him as aromantic). Similarly, there are two big relationships in that show: Nate/Sophie, and Parker/Hardison. And we all wax lyrical about the brilliance of Parker/Hardison and how healthy it is, and for good reason; but we gloss over how unbearably "I hate my wife/father I cannot click the book" Boomer humour Nate/Sophie is.

(He literally calls her a shrew in one episode. She throws a tantrum and sulks if he doesn't remember the exact details of how/where they met. She's stereotypically 'romantic' and he's stereotypically 'cynical' and she has to Save Him From Himself, and he self-deprecatingly says he should just know when to stop arguing because she's always right. Like... it is a grubby and uncomfortable dynamic; but, it's also aimed at a different segment of the audience that is older than me, and that's okay, actually. It just means I don't much care for the ship myself.)

Anyway, this is one other such instance. Clearly someone in the writers' room thought that was a funny joke, and not enough people disagreed, and so in it went. What's nice is that Sandi McCree, who plays the other flight attendant that stays on the plane, actually kind of saves that joke for me with her performance. When Parker first boards and declares that her co-worker is not coming in, McCree looks disgruntled at the sudden change to her staff list when she wasn't informed; she's annoyed at management. Then Parker makes the sleeping-with-pilots comment, and McCree looks disgusted and furious -

An expression she then pulls at Parker every time she sees her for the rest of the episode, even when Parker is technically not doing anything particularly weird. It's not necessarily intentional on McCree's part (Parker IS very weird in this episode, so it very much can be a response to that), but to me it means you can read it as "This woman is absolutely furious at the lateral sexism of this white girl because We Love And Support Each Other On This Plane." So, for me, between that and the aforementioned revelations of the day (the plane was brought down by the domestic terrorists of a Fortune 500 company, but saved by... a few unexplained Official People who snuck aboard??? And the other flight attendant was made to miss the plane after all under mysterious circumstances and was not promoted??? What???), I don't think Sandi McCree's character wouldn't put those pieces together.

[sheepispink]

A Night to Remember ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི COD MASTERLIST

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Part two of Sweet as Sugar Series. Part one here.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Next Chapter

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: After receiving Ghost’s text, you havent been able to get him out of your head. Lost in a daydream, you may have forgotten an important detail, but luckily everything goes ahead as planned and you end up taking more than a warm heart back home.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི WC: 3k

To say he hadn’t consumed all your thoughts was a severe understatement, especially considering you were currently staring into the bathroom mirror at two am with your cheeks still flushed and that last sentence ringing out in your head. You have to forcefully drag yourself into bed and refrain from picking your phone up, reading his message again. Last week you were scolding yourself for still giggling over celebrity crushes—now look at you, practically squirming over a text! It probably wasn’t even like that in the slightest; maybe he just needed to talk to you about some orders from your bakery. With a huff, you finally pull the covers snug over you and force your eyes closed, willing your mind to shut up.

Now the sun has risen high, just like the dough for tonight’s stock, the little open sign turned to signal closed whilst you and your parents churn out as many baked goods as possible before it’s time to set up. Slowly, your knuckles knead through the sticky texture, hands speckled white from flour. You had nearly seventy-five different pastries out yesterday, but with the hunger of the soldiers, that was reduced to a measly thirty or so by the time they had left. A sudden ping rings out, cutting through the yeast-powered daze you were in, and the dough is almost flung across the room as you hurriedly pry your fingers out and douse them in water before grasping at the phone across the room. It’s from the lieutenant, as you had hoped, and you hurry your password into your phone before the chat appears.

If you had to decide between the time you idiotically ate lunch right before a plane ride and what you had right now, this would definitely take the tier for the stupidest thing in your life. The text, if not an accusatory message, is simple—so simple that it doesn't even include a single letter.

’?’

Too busy stuck in your daydreams, you had fallen asleep without responding, essentially doing the worst thing you could ever possibly imagine—leaving the man on read. If you had to explain the way your heart had just dropped, it’d be clear from the way your jaw was permanently screwed open until you fixed this mess you accidentally created. Hurriedly, your fingers dance across the keys of your phone, the remnants of the stringy mass making mistypes our best friend until it ends up looking more like a keyboard smash than an apology sentence.

‘You alright there?’

The hair on your head would’ve been clawed out by sheer embarrassment if not for the fact that you feel obliged to at least clarify you did not mean to leave him hanging like a beggar on the street, eventually ending up sending a voice message instead to convey your mortification. “Sorry—I read your text message last night, and I forgot to respond because I was really tired, and I was up all day baking and even now I got up early— I'd love to go around the fair with you but only if you still want to go. I know this is kind of last minute now, and you’re probably super busy—” You squeak out, trying to stop yourself from grovelling even further into the ground before the app does you a favour and cuts the message instead. He sends back a text before you can send a follow-up and you can only imagine he’s probably laughing at you behind the screen; after all, how does someone just forget to reply?

“All that I needed was a simple yes, but I'll take the clarification. So, when will you be done with your parents?”

“We can still go??”

”Yes, now how about six?

”Yes, please!”

You wipe your face with your damp hands, breathing out a lengthy sigh now that you have finally averted the crisis known as your mess of a social life. Unfortunately, in the process of your panic, you had flattened all the dough on the rolling board, some sticking to your elbows now too. This was definitely not good hygiene-wise, and so you let out a long huff, and grab the flour for another batch to be made.

Soft blows of wind pass by you, protected by your woollen scarf that’s wrapped around your neck and your thick coat that is lined with the softest fur. As you help adjust the last of the display for the stall, you notice there was a few more stalls, likely not able to keep up with the demand of running it for two days, and so today they all chose to run theirs. After all your bakes had been sold out yesterday, you may have claimed the same mindset and went overboard on the bakes in hopes people had caught on to the little logo on all the soldier’s cups as they walked around. Somehow hanging out with the lieutenant was at the back of your mind right now; you were more focused on adjusting the bow at the edge of the table, right before making sure there were plenty of tissues available for your parents to grab. Not to mention enough paper bags, plates, checking the card machine actually worked, and the pot of tea was at the right temperature and waiting to be served. You’re just about to add a little more icing sugar onto the fresh croissants when a gruff cough echoes behind you. “Ghost?” You spin around, his callsign falling off your lips easily from how many times you stared at the contact in your phone in the past ten hours.

“Mhm, that's me. Ready to go?” You nod quickly, dusting off any stray sugar specks before walking over to him and waving at your parents. He looks a little different, still clad in his hooded jacket and thick gloves, but far more relaxed than yesterday. Due to the hectic nature of running a stall, you barely got a minute to look around, thus missing the chance to fully enjoy the simple happiness that came with every time it got a bit chilly. Orange leaves had long since decayed, leaving the trees bare and allowing a clear view of small specks of white in the darkened sky, now a navy blue even though it's never really that bright in winter. You’re even a little hesitant with where you step, considering the ground is already starting to grow a little icier. It’s been years, you think, since you’ve felt this giddy around wintertime, with university, jobs, and life pushing out the happy things you desperately tried to cling to. At least you always had the bakery to fall back on, and you hoped Ghost felt the same about your pastries.

“No soldiers today?” You tilt your head up at him, looking around the decorated paths to see if there’s a hint of camo between the sparkling fairy lights and wooden stands that make up this market. “No, they’re too busy packin’ up for the holidays.” He murmurs, his hands shoved into his pockets as his boots crunch against stray twigs from a nearby weaving stand, premade hearths hanging from the canopy. You blink at that, having always forgotten that the military base wasn't too far off this small town. After all, you used to wave at the soldiers eagerly when you were little, a loopy smile forever on your lips when they acknowledged you—kind of like the one you wore yesterday. “Oh? Guess you’ll be gone soon then, I guess. Where are you headed back to?” He just shakes his head this time before he eventually starts to walk towards a chestnut stand, intrigued by the man roasting them. “I’m stayin’ at base. Nowhere for me to go.”

Gruff is the only word you can use to describe his tone, and yet you watch as he pays the man for a portion of the roasted chestnuts. He doesn't hesitate to hand you the cup to hold as you grin at him and cradle the warmth in your hands until it cools to an edible temperature. Though you decide not to pry into his last words, instead choosing to indulge your earlier curiosity in which you were dying for an answer. “So… why did you even want to walk around with me?” In truth, he had not the slightest idea himself; all he knew was that he’d been a lonely bastard for too long, and he was sick of it. There you were with your lips pulled wide into a pretty smile every time he went to your shop, and he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t clench when you realised his own soldiers had sold out your stock. He tried to convince himself that he hadn’t meant to help you out; it was only convenient, and his soldiers were hungry. Instead of dwelling on it too long, he just steals a chestnut, slipping it beneath the privacy of his mask as he crunches on the velvety taste. “Figured you’d have an eye for the good stuff. Your tea isn’t something most would find around here.” That makes you nod, remembering the interaction you had with plenty of people.

“Yeah, had a few tell me that it was nothing like the chai tea bags they get in the shops.” His head turns to you, blatant distaste written in his eyes at whoever had the audacity to ask you that question. It’s funny, you think, that someone's eyes can show you that much emotion.

“Are they bloody stupid? Of course it’s not—it’s fresh! That’s like different by a mile!” He practically scoffs out, crossing his arms firmly as he shakes his head disapprovingly, earning him a bunch of giggles from you, who can only raise a brow at him cheekily. “Oh, are you a tea connoisseur now?”

“Oi, that’s Lieutenant to you, rookie.”

That makes you laugh loudly, his mask unable to stop itself from wrinkling at the corners as he gestures to you to follow him towards a stall. “C’mere, I'm gonna get you somethin.” He points up at the plush toys hanging from a stall you had subconsciously been eyeing whilst you walked, seeing as quite a few girls were carrying them tightly in their arms too. There’s a particular one, a penguin with grey fluffy fur and small eyes but a large beak, looking at you so innocently. It’s adorable, and even if you feel a little shy accepting it from him, you’d be damned if you didn't let him at least try. But then again.. it was the largest one,’ and knowing these stalls, it probably was rigged a little to stop people from getting the really large ones.. “If you get me one, I'll show you the best spots around. A fair trade, no?”

“Deal.”

All that the stall owner can do is watch in shock, jaw dropped, as the lieutenant easily picks up the rifle and hits down all six of the cans in seconds, practically speechless. “This one.” Ghost doesn't wait a second for him, pointing up at the large penguin, and your own jaw was agape too now, having expected a small little plush to carry for the journey.

“Whoa! It’s so fluffy, you really didn't have to, but—“ The words practically spill out your mouth, fumbling with your lips as your chest brims with excitement, now hugging it close to your chest. You can definitely tell he’s smirking now, especially as he ruffles the penguin’s fluffy fur with his hand, nodding in agreement. “Soft like you.”

The pair of you traverse around countless stalls, from fresh churros to a spiced burrito to fill your stomachs. Currently you stood in front of a tea store, one that sold a selection of tea bags rather than anything freshly brewed. Seeing as Ghost really did seem to be somewhat of a big tea enjoyer, you made it your mission to get him an assortment. So whilst he was taking a call, you were haggling the steep price down to something a little more affordable. “Don't you think fifty is a bit much?” You raise a brow, your arms crossed over your chest, which contradicts your calmer tone with something more accusing. “I mean, these are all imported anyway, they’re hardly homemade.”

“Well, they’re the finest quality—“

“No, if that were true, they’d be fresh. Come on, they’ve been sitting there since yesterday now—thirty five is much more reasonable for the effort of importing and covering enough for you to make a profit.” The owner can only sigh and roll her eyes fondly, handing you the selection of tea after your little bargaining. “Alright, have at it. Only because I taught you how to haggle a price that well.”

After his phone call was over, you followed through with your promise, leading him towards a small hill a little out of the town bounds. The further you go, the darker the surroundings around you grow but he stays close behind you, watching your feet in the small chance you fall. Eventually you reach the top of the cobbled steps, revealing an old stone plaza. There’s a shack not too far off, orange light streaming out and the sound of hushed cheers as they exchange drinks. What’s more important to him is the view from here, overlooking the entire market below. Everything had seemed too crowded before, with many bustling past to queue up for some hot doughnuts and little kids dragging their parents for a chance at the hook duck game. Here, it was entirely different; the lights reflected the night sky, a sea of stars in the midst of the darkness, and the soft music seemed so much clearer now.

Finally, you both settle on the edge of the stone, your shoes in the grass, and he peels off his own gloves, noticing how your hands were buried into the penguin’s fur for warmth. You take it graciously, slipping it over your iced fingers before rummaging through your own coat pocket. “A present for my lieutenant.”

“Your lieutenant? And I thought spoiling you was my job?“

“Well, call me the colonel since it’s mine now.”

He rolls his eyes up at you, but the affection is still visible, opening the box to look at the variety inside. Each one seemed to originate from a different part of the world, and even though he thought he tried most of the flavours, there was a lot more to learn. He can't help but meet your eager face. “Fine... Thank you. But I'm getting you one last dessert for that.”

Unfortunately, just like how his life had been going so far, everything good must come to an end. His phone startles you as it buzzes loudly, his free hand fishing it out before reading the messages there. His teeth grit in frustration, not wanting to levar you so early. You’re better than that, offering him a small grin in understanding. “Military emergency?” He wants to apologize, promise you that he’ll make it up to you, and give you something even better but he can't bring himself to.

He knows he could never be that soft.

With a gruff nod, he texts back hurriedly and pulls his mask a little higher upon his face. “Yeah..duty calls. Sorry.”You shake your head, waving your hands in front of you to reassure him, even if you were already missing the warmth of his palm in yours. He pushes himself up, and you follow as he nods for you to follow. “I’ll take you back to your parents' stall.” He offers and you nod with a small smile on your lips. That was much better than being left alone while he ran off—he didn’t owe you anything, and yet he still chose to make sure you got back safely.

But before he could take his third step, your eyes are widening, hands grasping his arm and desperately pulling him back. The touch catches him in surprise yet somehow exhilarating all the same, and thus he accidentally lets his guard down just enough for you to actually manage to pull him backwards. “The ice!” You squeak out as his foot slides, making him stumble back into you slightly, your grip now squeezing him. You couldn’t possibly catch a man of his stature, no less a person of a more regular size, and yet you still reached out for him and did your best to stop him. He’d be surprised if he’d even feel anything from falling ass flat on a bit of ice, knowing the extent of his usual injuries. Still, here you were like some guardian angel, doing your best to warn him.

“Thanks..” He mumbles, glancing down at your hands still on him before you hurriedly pull back, a nervous look on your face as you sheepishly grin.

“Sorry.. didn't want you to get hurt..”

“Guess we have to be extra careful, huh? I don't want you falling either.”

His now bare fingers gently nudge against your hand, wordlessly asking to hold it. A sinner would be his title if he said he didn't adore the way your eyes widened in wonder, grasping his own hand a little tighter and nodding, cheeks flushed from him and not the cold that bites your cheeks.

He keeps his grasp on you firm as he leads you down the cobbled stairs and back towards the centre of town, the little queue outside your stall coming into view. Reluctantly you part your hands, stepping back as you glance over at the amount of sales made already, a smile curving your cheeks higher. “I’ll see you again sometime soon… Lieutenant.” You hum, a little disappointed but genuine nonetheless. Today had been entirely perfect for you, like something you’d see in the synopsis of a movie. He nods gruffly again, steps a bit forward, and tucks your scarf a little tighter around your neck. “Simon.” He breathes out, voice a little raspy from how long it’s been since he’s said it from his own tongue.

“Huh?” Your head tilts up, confused.

Giving the large penguin plush a little pat, he steps back. “My real name’s Simon.”

————————————————————————

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@bieberismysoulmate @hidden-treasures21

[salemlunaa]

I might just be overthinking this but (this is lengthy, I wanted to explain as best I could)

I’ve been procrastinating the void for three years now it’s crazy. I haven’t got insane yet, but I have this terrible routine of going throughout the day wanting to enter the void but when I come home and it’s time for bedtime and all that suddenly want to enter leaves this magical third-party force making me do this. It’s a conscious choice. I just don’t get why I keep setting myself up for this disappointment every single day. 

Ive gone through all the reasonings. Even tho this current life makes me nothing but unhappy, tired, and I constantly feel like a shell of myself but it’s what I’m used to another thing I’ve noticed is I only want to enter the void when I’m actively doing something I don’t like like I’m at work or I’m at school or I’m doing homework but when I’m laying down in my bed I guess I’m not inconvenience so I guess I just tell myself all is OK even though there’s this voice deep down screaming at me to just enter the void because I know I’m gonna be disappointed and irritated myself next morning if I don’t, and I always just ignore it.

I don’t know if it’s because I prefer to imagine my dream life at a safe distance in just my head as insane as that sounds. I used to think I was afraid of change, but it’s not that cause I’ve always adapted to it. Well, I guess it was just usually not really my choice I had to. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s no way for me to prepare for a life. I haven’t experienced. I’m over that. I know. I deserve to live an stress-free fun life after the bullshit I’ve gone through. I mean, clearly I don’t want enough but at the same time I clearly do because I keep screaming at myself to just do it. I don’t know why my procrastination or laziness or stubbornness. I don’t know why I let it overpower that

Four years probably since I don’t know at least fifth or sixth grade I believe that somehow someway they’re just has to be away I can get the dream life I’ve been dreaming of. I don’t know why, but I just feel like something can do it for me like there’s no way I’m destined to live this shitty ass life, and now that I found the power to do so now I just keep pushing it back. Oh I’ll do it later even though I’m wanted this for years since I was probably 11, im 20 now, I found out about his whole community when I was 17 on a Saturday evening binge eating fruit snacks.

Im just so frustrated with myself, how I can allow myself to keep making my own suffering at this point, I know all the why but I don’t understand the why. Why I keep doing this to myself and how to stop it, I try to think and understand it everyday. I want to enter the void and get the life I deserve and I don’t plan on giving up ever.

Ik this is super long so thank you so much for answering if you do. can I be your 🌶️🥒 (spicy dill) anon, if that’s still a thing?

hi love🌶️🥒

you have the exact same problem that majority of this community has so please don’t feel lonely. A lot of people spend their days doing nothing at all and wait for the last second to apply.

you are not destined to live a shitty life, you get to craft your own life and i know it can be comforting imagining that from afar, but if you really want it you have to lock in, like really, you actually have to try.

I don’t want you to waste any more years like this so some advice i will give you is whenever you have any free time include the void, try and if it “fails” go back to what you know is true, relaxation and detachment and try again.

This is such a common problem in the community and your story will resonate with so many people, so to everyone reading this go an apply, stop killing time 💋💋

[thefrogman]

Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would

not get very many notes.

At all.

I am not sure exactly why.

I think people hated pressing an extra thing.

But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.

But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.

When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."

That was a really good feeling.

I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.

So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.

Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.

But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."

This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.

I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).

It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".

Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.

I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.

While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)

The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.

Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?

KEEP READING

I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.

I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.

I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.

So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.

100% true ferret fact..

If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...

[yan-lorkai]

Só lembrei da minha ideia agora, perdão mandar tarde assim

Você conseguiria escrever yandere! Azul, malleus e vil com uma Yuu que simplesmente não fica presa?

Não é como se ela quisesse fugir ou estivesse muito desconfortável, pelo contrário, elaate gosta deles, ela simplesmente so não fica presa

Tipo, o malleus prende ela em um quarto e meia hora depois ela tá andando pela diasomnia como se ela não tivesse feito a coisa mais impressionante do mundo, e quando perguntam pra ela "como vc escapou?" Ela só fala tipo "ah mano, o cadeado quebrou" como se não fosse nada

Muito obrigada, e time muito cuidado consigo mesma

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Translation: Can I have Azul, Malleus and Vil with a reader that always escape somehow? Like, she's super lucky and things tend to work for her. But it's not that she wants to run away or don't like them, it's just somehow she always escape.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Gonna reply in english, Sweetie! But omg have I told you already that I loved this? This is all so silly and they're so dramatic, help---. I was imagining so many scenes when I was writing those hcs that I sincerely thought for a whole second to write a oneshot instead. Glad I didn't because it would be lengthy as hell, not that I won't do it in the future 👀. Well I hope you enjoy, darling! <33

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, kidnapping (on malmal's part), Azul's insecurity + him guilty tripping reader, reader loves the yandere, technically fem!reader but no pronouns / gendered terms were used so everyone can read!

Malleus is a powerful wizard and he knows it. He could move mountains with the blink of an eye or make the seas stir, in fact, he would be more than happy to demonstrate everything he can do in front of you. He almost looks like a bird trying to impress its partner. So silly.

The problem is that Malleus is possessive, he wants you by his side all the time. He wants you to be the blood that runs through his veins, wants you to be the air he breathes and the water that touches his lips, that's why, after a few months of just being your friend, he takes the first step and asks you to be his lover. And he's a good boyfriend, a little clumsy and confused, of course, it's his first time in a romantic relationship, but he always tries to be better for you. He is almost perfect.

But not even that can tame the inner dragon that roars and breathes fire inside, far from it, having you so close makes Malleus more greedy. He just wants more and as usual he simply takes what he wants. Your moving into his room as he likes to call it happens at night, after you sleep so peacefully without knowing what is happening, his fingers gently groping over your skin, his lips connecting with your cheeks and forehead as he watches over your dreams. He can get used to it.

When you wake up and the first thing you see is your boyfriend and hear him say all those absurd things and feelings that have been building up in his chest, of course you don't react well. You're scared, confused but there's still love for him in your heart as you slowly turn away and hide yourself on his blankets, pondering.

But there's nothing you can do, not at that moment and controlling yourself as much as you can, you pretend that kidnapping people because you love them so much is considered normal - for someone who has lived a long time like him, Malleus certainly doesn't understand sarcasm, since he's overjoyed, kissing you and being content in watching you do completely mundane things.

By the way, even if you wanted to run away, appealing to Silver's good heart or Sebek's sense of justice is in vain. If their prince decided to do what he did then they won't stop him, instead they will talk to you, explain to you that things will be better if you just accept it. And Lilia will endorse this thought.

Now, after some time passed and you realized that you didn't care, it's not as if you're trying to escape per say. But as you were trying to open the doors to go outside for something, you applied a little more force and it opened. The same happened when you tried to open the windows, removing the padlocks from them with ease since they weren't even closed, letting the sun's rays illuminate Malleus's room. If Malleus was trying to keep you in his room he was failing horribly.

Your supposed plans to escape improving with each new attempt, but no matter how many times you "escaped" Malleus always seems to be two steps ahead, a smug smile on his lips.

He always knows that you will try to run away, just as he knows that after that you will come running into his arms as if nothing had happened, wanting the comfort that only he can offer. While your escape attempts are funny to watch, he asks you why you always escape and how, and your answer makes him laugh loudly. So you're not trying to escape, you just don't like to spend everyday in his room and away from him? Granted, he now takes you on walks in Diasomnia's gardens and through some ruins he has found. He also allows you to spend time with his brothers and father.

Now that he knows you're not trying to escape, Malleus will let you walk peacefully through Diasomnia and the campus but you know that somehow he is always watching you. At the end of the day you will return to his side.

⠀

Vil knows who he is and what he is capable of doing, what he is capable of achieving if he stays focused and persists in whatever is on his mind. And at the moment what occupies his mind is you, his sweet schatz. Loving you is the best thing that has happened to him, so soft and sublime, just like the books and movies suggested it would be.

And it's out of love that Vil brings you to live at Pomefiore after talking to you and knowing your opinion, he knows very well that his feelings of possession are unhealthy but in a world of villains, you learn to ignore that. It doesn't mean he doesn't first try to get your opinion on moving before he becomes a villain who stole your freedom in your eyes. And seriously, life in Pomefiore is better than in Ramshackle where you had to hope the roof didn't fly off and be careful with the stairs and the leaks and the hard mattress that made your back hurt.

You notice that Vil reveals his true colors slowly, switching this and that in your schedule to match his. Or doing your skin care himself because he likes the control and taking care of you, and well, you don't really care about that. Not even with the big changes he makes, as long as he still loves you, you follow him without complaining. And Vil realizes this, which is why he never imagined you would try to escape from him. If you can call this an escape attempt, that is.

You were creating potions in Vil's personal laboratory. Why? Because you wanted to show him what you had learned today, but the potion was so potent that it almost put him to sleep as soon as he smelled it. Needless to say, he wasn't happy about it, a little disoriented and with a growing migraine on the way, he thought that you were trying to put him to sleep to run away. But he was strangely happy to notice that you were feeling guilty and explaining what were your intentions as you make sure that everything's was alright with him. As an actor he knows how to recognize a liar, but you spoke the truth. So he decided to let it go.

It was just a single, terrible mistake, right?

Such incidents continued to occur. Sometimes even Rook had difficulty following you around campus, having to use his Unique Magic to be able to keep his eyes on you. Lady Lucky seemed to favor your above everyone else, helping you in your little escapades. You did a little bit of everything, you even managed to create a shrinking potion, staying tiny for a whole day and, instead of looking for Vil to fix this problem, you went out there into the world wanting to experience the spontaneity of the moment. One of these days you'll leave him gray with worry.

Despite the frustration bubbling within him, Vil sits you down at his dressing table to work on your hair and asks you about all these incidents, wondering if they were just tests to see how far you could push him to his limit before actually trying to escape. But when you explain your intentions to him, knowing that you're not trying to get away from him takes a weight off his shoulders. The whole situation becomes comical, here he was worried and with countless thoughts running through his head, a particularly potent potion hidden in his pocket and here you are, completely unaware of the effects you have on him.

He thinks it's ridiculous that he considered that you would run away when he stops to think about how you adore his affection, drink in his every word and savor his every gesture. You're a troublemaker but are still so dependent on him. Maybe he was a little hasty and now he can finally relax. This little quality of yours though both confounded and captivated him.

⠀⠀

Azul is above all a strategist. He plans everything from the way you will meet for the first time to the way he will steal something from you. Maybe a talent, maybe a skill, but something will become his to satisfy that strange feeling he has in his chest every time he sees you. Weeks of plans are thrown out the window as soon as one day you sit in his office chair, wanting to make a contract with him. And that is the unique chance he has been waiting for, regardless of what your heart desires, he is able to achieve it and in return have you.

If only it were that simple... It's only after his whole overblot fiasco that you finally start to get closer, you still staying by his side to help him rebuild Mostro Lounge. And months later, friendship became a relationship due to Azul's calculations and assumptions. In the end you had your wish fulfilled and so did he, having you as his partner was like a dream come true. Yet, sometimes he wonders what you see in him.

He doesn't let that thought stay on his mind much, preferring to spend time with you, thinking about you, heavens he's so clingy he can't even keep his hands off you, that is, when you're alone of course. You're so sweet to him, bringing him coins for his collection and asking him how his day was, it's nice to have someone who cares. But it's terrible to imagine the ways that anyone who has a beef with him would hurt you for his actions, so Azul proposes another contract with the intention of protecting you from possible threats.

The contract in theory is simple: to remain under the twins' watch and protection. Though, your friends and other people tend to avoid you because of this, because Jade and Floyd are too intimidating. You particularly find them funny with their very different mannerisms, hovering over your shoulders like two shadows, Floyd pestering you while Jade supposedly tries to control him. Azul thinks this is a good contract, whether you think so or not - he can be convinced otherwise through persuasion.

Something that Azul didn't foresee, however, was that the twins would get bored of playing babysitter and would drag you somewhere. Jade wanted to show you his terrariums while Floyd wanted to take you to see their house, neither of them answering any of Azul's messages or calls, not even you but that's because you were trying to get the twins not to fight each other. So your escapades happen because of them, because of that Azul knows that you're not trying to leave him and he recognizes that, but due to his insecurity, every time you return to him Azul seems about to start crying while he wrap himself all over you.

If you tried to run away he could at least do this and that to prevent it, instead he tries to make you feel guilty for making him worry so much. He was about to cut off his own tentacles and eat them if you took one more second to walk through that door, is that what you wanted? It must be, otherwise you wouldn't have run away without saying anything to him >:(

Cuddle him now. Or else, he'll gonna be cranky and fussy. He just loves you so much and he knows you love as well, so why do you do this? Just let him love you completely and wholly.

[enkas-illusion]

(Not) Just Another Crush - Part 1/2

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, fluff, A LOT of fluff, slow burn, kissing, language, slight make out, emotional edging of sorts (it will make sense)

Chapter Summary: Instead of pining over the mystery man at your gym from a distance, you decide to take matters into your own hands and talk to the guy. And you find out that Eren Jaeger, as it turns out, is akin to a man written by a woman.

Author's notes:  Hello, here’s a meet-cute type of thing for gym bro Eren cause ~I need a big boy, gimme a big boy, gimme a big big boy~; this is a 2-part story so the chapters are super lengthy. Hope you enjoy it – feel free to like, reblog or comment! Thank you for reading! 

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Crush by Cigarettes After Sex

Part 1 | Part 2

To the unassuming eyes, it may look like just two people interacting – but to the ones who knew, you and the gym trainer, it was fate intervening to give you this opportunity!

“Bruh, if you don't go talk to him now…” you hear Porco, the trainer's voice as he nudges you in your crush's direction.

As you walk up to your crush you think about how stupid this idea seems. The plan was to ask him to alternate sets with you on seated rows since the gym was way too crowded. 

Honestly, the move was a bit too obvious in your opinion. But you'd set your mind to it – Today is the day you finally talk to your crush!

It had been quite some time since you'd been secretly simping over this guy so what's the harm? All the other equipment being occupied was the perfect excuse, if you had to look for one, to finally talk to him.

Since you’re usually reserved, you don’t talk to anyone at the gym. You've always been this way – doing your own thing while blasting music in your earphones and going home without ever lifting your head up.

But ever since you saw him about a month ago, your eyes had been wandering around to find him the minute you'd enter the gym, stealing glimpses whenever you could without being creepy about it. 

You decided it was just some stupid crush only because the man was ridiculously hot so it'll fade away eventually. But man, were you wrong.

When he didn't show up to the gym the whole week last week, you rushed to Porco, who's always hanging around to enquire – any semblance of subtlety thrown out the window. 

It wasn't like you were planning to make a move (god knows the only reason you didn't talk much at the gym was to avoid the occasional creeps that would try talking you up).... but the fact that it felt like a missed chance with the mystery guy left an itch and a curiosity to know more.

“...you know the one who's always wearing anime t-shirts? Long, black haired pretty dude?” You'd asked, hoping Porco would recognize your crush from your half-assed description.

When Porco was seemingly confused, you'd pestered further, “The one who always has his hair tied in a messy bun but still looks gorgeous? Nothing? Ummm- The emo dude with the perfect proportions!”

“OH! Are you talking about Eren? I can’t quite remember his last name but pretty sure you’re talking about Eren. Yeah… he's a regular– has been here for a year now.”

“How come I only saw him a month ago?”

“I think he recently switched timings to fit his work schedule or something. Maybe he shifted back to the mornings.”

Your heart sinks at the information… there goes your imaginary chance with Eren.

Eren.

You memorise his name anyway… hoping that maybe the gods would be generous enough to give you a chance to talk to him.

And they do. He shows up over the weekend and you secretly cheer that he's back during your schedule. However, another month passes by as you keep on trying to find the ‘perfect’ opportunity to talk to him. 

Which brings you to the present moment, as you walk towards him and wait at a distance while he finishes his reps. He slows down his movements nonetheless when your eyes meet, and before you can stop yourself, you wave at him before abruptly putting your hand down. 

Eren stops his movements and pulls his headphones back, his serious face breaking into a soft smile, “Hii…?”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but would you mind alternating sets with me? I’ve been waiting for about 15 minutes…” you point at the other equipments flocked by people, “Totally cool if you can’t tho-”

“Okay,” he smiles as he does five more reps before getting up and wiping the sweat off the seat.

“Thank you,” you say as you go to adjust the weights. Your jaw almost drops when you see it's set to 80kgs. You almost want to laugh as you set it back to 15kgs.

‘Dude’s a beast, don’t compare! Upper body never was your best muscle group,’ you think to yourself. You resume your music quickly and begin your set. When you’re done, you get up to wipe the seat as well as the handlebars of the machine with your towel.

You hear a snort from behind and when you turn to look at Eren and see him give you a smile that has you weak in your knees.

“What?” you ask confused.

“Wiping the handles as well? Cute,” he answers. He can’t help but find this action considerate – Most people don’t even bother wiping the patch formed by their sweaty ass cheeks.

Even if his compliment makes you blush, you try hard to not let it show. You simply move away to signal him to the seat. He bends down to readjust the weights.

“No way you’re gonna go above 80!?” you gasp as you see him push it to 100kgs.

“The last one is always till failure,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Oh... that’s crazy, I could never. I’ve got noodle arms,” you joke.

“Didn’t you get your first full pull up a few days ago?” he asks. 

PAUSE. He’s noticed you before???

As if instantly reading your mind, he adds, “I saw you cheering and clapping your hands with Porco when you did it.”

“Oh that… sorry, I try not to bother anyone much usually,” you feel the heat rise to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“I know, don’t be sorry, it’s a good thing to celebrate your PR… besides, Reiner has been teasing me about not making any progress lately so I need to step up my game for sure,” he laughs to himself as he gets into position.

“Reiner?” 

“That’s the huge blonde who I usually come with,” he explains. You simply nod and don’t speak further, letting him begin his set. He starts well but by the end you can tell that Eren is struggling a bit as soft cusses leave his lips, face scrunching and chest heaving as he steadies his breathing.

“Come on… 2 more.” you cheer, causing him to grunt as he finishes his set. Your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see him wipe the handles along with the seat, imitating your habit.

“Thank you.” you blush as you bend down to readjust the weights to 25kgs, “So, you’re done?”

“Yeah…” he speaks, taking small sips of water from his bottle, “I’ll see you around?” 

You nod and he smiles at you as he turns to leave, but quickly turns back again, “Shit! Sorry… What's your name?”

The blush grows even further at his question as you tell him your name and ask, “What about you?”

“I’m Eren… Eren Jaeger.”

Jaeger. Eren Jaeger.

You memorise his full name and you both say your goodbyes as you get back to your workout. Eren left way before you did, leaving no room for further conversations to occur. 

This interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by Porco, who rushed to your side when you were stretching, “Soooo, am I your cupid yet?”

“Don’t get your hopes up… we’ll have small talks whenever we see each other at best. Nothing’s going to happen!” you lie with a straight face, but deep down you were dying to check him out on Instagram once you were in the comfort of your home.

Your crush was oh so kind to spare you the stalking when you see your phone light up with a notification later at night.

Eren_j started following you.

You almost jump up out of your bed but steady yourself to call your best friend, Annie, before you even get to checking his account.

“Guess who just followed me on ig?” you giggle when she picks up the call.

“Huh?”

“Guess. Who. Followed. Me!” you repeat.

“Darling… I need context,” she replies dryly.

“Eren… Eren followed me… the gym crush!” you squeal, killing the suspense since you knew it was too late at night for her to indulge in your guessing game.

“Waitttttt… the supposedly hot emo guy who wears anime t-shirts?” you can hear her surprising tone, “you go girl– thought you were too much of a puss-”

“Annie!” you cut her off, “What do I do? Should I text him first or just follow back?”

“NO! Always let the guy text first,” she proclaims.

“Ugh… but okay, I hear you… wouldn’t want to seem like a simp after keeping my cool for so long,” you answer back as you put her on speaker to follow him back. You see the Requested icon turn to Following within seconds.

“ANN! He accepted already,” you almost yell.

“Welp, that was fast,” she chuckles.

“Sooo,” you begin in a sweet sing-song voice, “I’m gonna go stalk his profil-”

“Yeah, alright… have a good night babe.” you hear a dramatic mwah from her. You chuckle as you bid her good night before hanging up.

As you skim through his profile, you can’t help but feel giddy at the fact that this guy actually seems to have a personality, unlike some gym bros who make ‘muscle’ their entire personality.

When you’re going through his story highlights, you see his username pop up at the top of your screen, making your heart race faster. He had replied to your story. You rush to check on your profile what you’d posted, feeling your brain malfunction as you fear it being something embarrassing and goofy.

Phew. It was just a post-workout selfie showing off your wet, sweaty t-shirt.

You open his text.

Eren_j:

Guess u got a good workout in after I left afterall.

Feeling a bit bold, you text back.

I did… would’ve been a lot more fun with you tho.

And you almost want to throw your phone away in anticipation as you see the typing icon.

Eren_j:

Be careful what you wish for. I’ve been told im a strict/difficult gym partner.

I like me a challenge :)

Eren_j:

Is that so? Guess i gotta make it particularly hard for u :)))

I’m a tough girl Eren… i think i can take it.

You swing your feet as you roll around on the bed. If you ever showed this to Annie, she’d probably call it ‘fucking cringe but cute nonetheless’. 

As the double entendre texts died down, seamless conversations kept you hooked. He was putting in equal amounts of effort to keep the conversation alive. You don’t exactly remember how you fell asleep but you remember talking to him for about two hours or so. 

And that’s how you became gym buddies. As another month had passed by, you got to know him as a friend. You want to cuss yourself since your crush has only increased tenfold ever since you’ve gotten to know him personally. 

You realise just how deceiving his looks are – on the outside, he’s this big, intimidating dude but on the inside he’s got the golden retriever energy. Eren is the perfect mix of what you’d call a serious yet laid back/chill guy.

He’s thoughtful, remembers tiny details about you, sends you songs whenever he finds one he thinks you’d like and memes that remind him of you and is a self proclaimed hopeless romantic. You could go on and on about Eren and it would still not be enough – needless to say, you were absolutely gone for him, the kind that they describe as being totally head-over-heels in movies.

And it doesn’t help that a few nights ago, when the gym was basically empty, you two almost kissed. Standing in the corridor, as you were saying your goodbyes, it felt as if he was about to lean in to kiss you before being interrupted by someone walking out the changing room, making you flee the scene, akin to a criminal being caught.

But then again, you weren’t really sure if it was just your delusion overriding the tiny bit of logic left in your romance-ridden brain.

~~~

“Eren… I can’t– fuck,” you groan as your hands shake.

“You got it, come on. You’re doing so good. One more then we’re done. Promise,” you hear his voice as his grip on your waist tightens. 

Eren supports your bodyweight as he pushes you up so that your chin is touching the pull up bar. The first few were bearable but by your 7th pull up, it’s more like he’s working his biceps rather than you working your back.

With shaky hands, you try to control your movement as you come down but your arms almost give in, causing you to slightly stumble as you drop to your feet with a light thud. His grip on your waist tightens to steady you before letting go gently.

Ever since the almost kiss, you’d been extra aware of his touches. So even his guiding touches, without any ulterior motives, have been making you feel some type of way.

You slouch slightly as you sit against a wall in the corner, sipping your water. You close your eyes to calm your breathing as you feel your arms burn. You groan as you realise you’re going to be super sore tomorrow morning.

“Good job bub,” he snickers. You open your eyes to see him bend down in front of you to pat your head lightly.

“I give up… you win, you are a ruthless gym partner.”

“Aww… I'm flattered,” he jokes further.

You roll your eyes as you swat his hand away from your head.

“Let me make it up to you, I’ll give you a massage. How about that?” he adds jokingly, though you know he wouldn’t mind actually giving you one if you ask him nicely.

“You better! I’m not going to be able to make dinner tonight!” you reply as you hold your arms out limply in front of him.

“Then don’t. Let me make you dinner,” he says, taking the opportunity.

“For real?” you ask, taken by surprise by his sudden yet tempting offer.

“Yeah? Got any plans for tonight?”

“No… let’s do it. I'm in,” you agree before demanding, “but, I want that massage as well.”

“Done… my massages can put those Thai spas to shame,” he boasts.

“Are you overselling yourself Jaeger?” you tease him, “it’s often disappointing when reality doesn’t match the hype.”

“You’re gonna eat your words later… I’ve been told I’ve got magic fingers.” he retorts, his cocky smirk wider than ever. You roll your eyes as you grab your things before getting up. 

“That’s for me to decide,” you poke him further, “... the food better be worth the 7 pull ups.”

Surprisingly he doesn’t have a witty comeback in his arsenal this time. You simply hear a low chuckle escape his lips and it’s somehow more mischievous than whatever clever words he would’ve spoken otherwise.

You’d never been to his place before, meaning it took a few minutes for your brain to register that you were going to Eren fucking Jaeger’s place! In the changing room, you freshen up as much as you can to try to not look like a sweaty mess. You change into a pair of jeans and a jumper, slinging the gym bag over your shoulder before giving yourself one last look in the mirror and walking out to meet him near the entrance of the gym.

As you walk out, you see him waiting for you on his bike, securing the helmet on his head. He’s changed into a pair of loose jeans and a denim jacket over his t-shirt. Even when you’d seen his ride for the first time, Eren being a biker never surprised you since it felt very on-brand for him. 

Imagine him picking you up for a date, waiting on his bike with a bouquet of tulips in hand. Ehe. 

You snap out of your daydream when he holds out the other helmet in front of you. You lean your head down when he motions you to do so and he puts the helmet on you.

“Where did the second one come from?” you wonder out loud.

“I had planned to take you home tonight from the start,” he winks.

You snort as you slide the visor of his helmet down his face. You hear his laugh as he adds, “Porco let me borrow his, apparently he keeps an extra one in the cabin for god-knows-what.”

“I guess I really might need to call Porco a cupi–” you freeze midway.

“Hmm?” 

“A good trainer.” you correct yourself, and you’re pretty sure it was far from convincing but Eren decides not to tease you about it. You’re 99.99% certain he heard it – maybe he just wants to save you the embarrassment, you think to yourself.

You hop onto his bike and hesitantly rest your hands on his sides not wanting to seem awkward by straight up hugging him from behind. However, he straightens his back as he grabs the top of your hands, pulling them to the front to wrap them around his waist. You smile to yourself as you rest your cheek on his back and hug your arms around him steadily.

The ride back to his place is barely 10 minutes long. You miss being so close to him as soon as you get off the bike in the parking lot. He parks and guides you to his apartment holding your wrist gently. It’s not a complete holding-hands-fingers-intertwined but that has never stopped you from overanalyzing things, has it?

You take in your surroundings when you enter the apartment and it doesn’t stand out much. It looks like any normal dude’s apartment, except it’s cleaner – probably more than your own.

“Wow, your apartment is clean,” you comment.

“You’re hurting me babe. Did you expect me to live like a savage just cause I’m a guy.”

“No, no… I’m sorry it came out wrong–” you try to clarify but he interrupts.

“Kidding! I know it’s cleaner than usual. I live with Reiner and Levi… while Reiner and I aren’t really shabby, Levi really can’t tolerate a dirty house,” Eren explains.

“Oh, that must be exhausting, no?”

“Not really. That was Levi’s one condition when Reiner and I went to him in search of a third flatmate so we agreed.”

“Ah, makes sense. Are they here?” you ask, curiously as you hang your bag near the coat rack and take off your shoes. Eren returns to your side, having locked the door and keeping all his things in their designated places. 

“Nah. Reiner’s out of town on a work trip for like two weeks and Levi’s gone home for a few days as well,” he answers as he shrugs off his jacket, folding it before placing it on the side table.

You can’t help but find it cute that he keeps the place neat so diligently, being considerate of others… but then again, you’ve been finding all of Eren’s actions cute lately.

“... so it’s just us here tonight.” he says flirtatiously.

“Good thing, I’d hate to share food now… I’m hungry,” you say, dodging it. Usually, you’d flirt back but the two of you being alone at his place suddenly feels so real – anything could happen. You chicken out – there may be a possibility that he likes you back but there could ALSO be a possibility of him only liking you as a friend.

“‘Ight, what would you like to have?” he asks as you follow him to the kitchen. 

“Surprise me… nothing too fancy though.” 

“Phew… I was actually hoping for that answer since I’d prepared the dough for burger patties,” he admits sheepishly as he washes his hand and puts on the apron. You lean against the opposite counter to let him cook in peace without any hindrance. 

“Do you want my hel-”

“OH– just a min,” he interrupts you as he hurries out of the kitchen. You blink in confusion as you follow him out to check on the guy and find him connecting his phone to the speaker.

A soft song plays through the speaker loudly and he walks towards you as if just now he’s truly ready to take on kitchen duties. 

“It’s my cooking playlist,” he smiles.

He’s so fucking cute. For fucks sake!

When you ask him again if he wants your help, he declines saying ‘the only thing you need to do tonight is compliment my amazing skills.’

So you watch him work while chatting away about random things. It doesn’t take long for him to prepare the patties and heat the buns, adding copious amounts of veggies with melting cheese on top of it. He presents it with a ‘Tada!’ and you clap at his presentation with a dramatic ‘Bravo!’

When you taste the first bite, you almost moan at how delicious it is. The burger is huge, juicy and has the right balance of crispy and soft with spicy, sweet and sour. You close your eyes, delving into the heavenly taste.

You open your eyes to see Eren devouring his own burger, unfazed by the masterpiece that he’d created as if it were something ordinary to him.

“Eren!” you squeal, “if this is what I get to eat after, I might just do a hundred pull-ups from tomorrow.”

Eren chuckles at this, licking the cheesy sauce that had trickled down his fingers, “Told ya I only brag when I know I’m good.”

“I’m serious! This is too good,” you add, taking another bite. 

“I know… thank you,” Eren smiles, clearly amused at the way you’re enjoying his burger. And in that moment, a thought crosses his mind – he’d make you dinner every night if it meant that he got to be the reason for you to feel such bliss.

Neither of you talk much till you finish eating. Your reason being wanting to relish in the taste with full concentration and Eren’s reason being not wanting to disturb your peace.

When you’re done, you clear out the plates and Eren cleans the table. As you’re walking out of the kitchen, you hear a familiar tune playing when he resumes the songs on his playlist.

You recognize it – Dope Lovers by DPR IAN.

“I love this song!” you exclaim as you walk towards him. The tension you’d felt at the beginner has almost dissipated and feeling a little courageous, you extend an arm out to him to dance.

He tosses his phone on the sofa before taking your hand to pull you closer to him. You sway your body to the rhythm as you mumble some of the lyrics.

“Is it the art or the artist that you like?” he teases.

“Well, you can’t deny that he isn’t hot… There’s something about DPR Ian, he’s soooo–” you pause to think about the right word to use before concluding, “– babygurl.”

“Babygurl?” Eren laughs as he rests his arms at your hips, “What does that even mean?”

“It’s like daddy –  it’s a state of mind,” you joke but then you purse your lips as you really think about how to explain this endearing slang to Eren, “Babygurl is when a man is so comfortable in his masculinity that he isn't scared of embracing his soft side and being gentle. A man who knows that kindness is strength. Someone who looks so tough but is far from toxic. A man who’s a gentleman in the true sense of the word… does that make sense?”

“Hmm, I think so…” he nods, “Who else is babygurl?”

“You are, Eren,” you smile and lift your hands up to move to his neck but stop when you feel a weird stiffness in your shoulders, “ow, it’s sore already.”

“Okay, let’s give you that massage!” he declares with a booming laugh, taking your hands in his and guiding you to the sofa. He sits you down with your back facing him and gently taps near your lower back to signal you to sit up straight.

“Relax your shoulders,” you hear him speak softly as his hands move up to your shoulders but he pauses his movement. He lifts his hands to comb his fingers through your locks and you jerk slightly when his fingers touch your neck in the process.

“Eren, what are you doin-” you giggle as you turn your head to look at him. 

“Shh, stay still,” he murmurs, knitting his eyebrows in concentration. His hair falls down, framing his face as he takes out his hair tie. You turn to look to the front as he runs his fingers to gather all your loose strands together once again. You feel him gently pull at your hair as he secures it with his hair tie.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for mine. It’s in my bag,” you chuckle.

“Too lazy,” he replies as his hands begin to massage your back gently. He alternates between pressing his thumbs down the length of your spine and pressing his palms flat to cover the entire area, sliding his hands down in slow pressured movements. You slouch in his touch and his hands move up to your shoulder blades to massage the area in circular motion.

“Mmm, Eren– that feels so good,” you breathe out, skin feeling like wax that could melt into his hands at any moment. You’re certain you’d fall asleep in a few minutes if he continued doing this any longer.

Eren changes his movement to bring up his fingertips to your nape, dragging them gently over the expanse of your neck, his fingers dancing over your skin as he dips them under the collar to trace your skin. This causes you to let out an involuntary whimper and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when his touch comes to a halt.

You’re pretty sure he can see the goosebumps pricking on the surface of your skin and you mumble a soft ‘sorry’ as you create some space between to turn around to face him completely. Your eyes meet and you’re smiling at him awkwardly but he has a poker face. 

He gets up abruptly, breaking eye contact as he hurries towards the kitchen. You look at him, confused and are about to ask him why he was acting that way but he speaks up before you do.

“Want anything to drink? Something sweet for dessert?”

“Umm… okay,” you mutter, still confused.

“Anything specific?” he enquires.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of hot coffee,” you request, smiling as you abandon your previous thought.

“Coffee? At night?” he counters, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s my talent. I can sleep like a baby no matter how strong the coffee is.”

“Hmmm… Would you like to try the Eren Jaeger Special where I mix loads of chocolate with coffee and cream?”

“So, basically a mocha?” you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.

“Yes or no?” he says with narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” you laugh and he rolls his eyes as he turns around, disappearing into the kitchen.

You’re scrolling through your phone when you hear his approaching footsteps after a few minutes. You close your phone as you turn your head to look up at him as he walks towards you with two steaming mugs in hand.

As soon as he places one of the mugs on the table, you pick it up instantly. He sits down in front of you to clink your mugs together with a ‘cheers’. You both take tiny sips together and your eyes widen at the frothy sweet and bitter taste. 

“If you get me addicted, you’ll have to be the one to meet the demands too, just sayinggg…'' you blow over the surface and take another sip.

“Yes ma’am, I’d gladly oblige to all of your demands,” he winks before taking another sip from his mug. You try to hide your growing smile with your mug. For the rest of the conversation you try to change the subject from the two of you to literally anything else you can find – and Eren being the great conversationalist that he is, is talking about each topic just as enthusiastically.

“Aww man, the last of the coffee’s gone cold.” you swirl the liquid in the mug.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Eren fake yells, already having finished his. You raise one fist up as you gulp the last of your coffee down in one go and slam the mug down on the cushion. Feeling the frothy stache over your upper lip, you lick it off, laughing along with him.

“There’s still some left…” Eren mumbles, pointing at his own mouth to show the spot. Before you have a chance to wipe it, he swipes his thumb over the corner of your lips before bringing it to his lips to lick it off. It’s such a simple act yet it has the butterflies in your stomach going rampant.

“Hey, that was mine,” you try to feign offence but it comes out more desperate than you’d intended as you stare at his lips a little too longer than friends are supposed to. 

He cups your face with both his hands as his gaze deepens before his eyes move down to your lips. Your breath hitches as you see him instinctively wet his lips. He leans in to move closer till your faces are just inches away.

“Then take it back agai–” he’s rudely interrupted by the sound of the front door opening with a loud thud. You pull back abruptly to create some space between the two of you. You see Eren’s jaw clench as he closes his eyes briefly in an attempt to keep his cool.

“REINER MY BROTHER– oh,” you see a man enter the living room with a large backpack.

“Jean.” Eren says, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“Eren. Where’s Reiner?” Jean asks as he looks at the two of you.

“Did he not tell you that he wasn’t gonna be at home for a while?” Eren answers, and you’re almost surprised at how cold his tone is.

“Yes? But I figured he'd leave after seeing me?” Jean retorts.

“And why would he do that?” Eren asks just as coldly.

“Since he said I was welcome to stay in his room while I was in town? Even told me to use the key y'all keep in the space behind the nameplate,” the man explains.

“Great! It's amazing how my roommate fails to tell me about shit like this.” Eren mutters but smiles at the guy nonetheless, “His room is unlocked… feel free to make yourself at home I guess.”

“Thanks. Have fun, I guess,” Jean half salutes Eren, giving you both a smug smile, feeling the satisfaction of having cockblocked his friendly foe. He leaves you two alone, making his way to Reiner’s room. Once you watch him disappear, you turn to check your phone for the time.

This time it was real! You’re not delusional, he really was about to kiss you!

You silence the voice in your head. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that Eren seemingly likes you but he can’t seem to make a move or at least declare his feelings with certainty. And there’s no way in hell you’d confess first since it’s pretty evident you like him, you’ve dropped enough hints over a month’s time – you want him to be the one to do it first.

“It’s late, I better get going,” you make an excuse as you stand up, gathering your things as you prepare to leave. Your cheeks feel hot and you give him a small smile, feeling a bit too flustered to carry on a conversation at this point.

“Let me drop you home,” he offers quickly as he stands up with you.

“My apartment isn’t far from here.”

“It's late,” he adds. You consider it and nod your head. He smiles as he grabs his keys along with his own two helmets this time.

The ride home is quick so neither of you bother with small talk. Once he parks in the parking lot of your apartment building, he tilts his bike to make it easier for you to get off. He gets off the bike, gently taking your helmet off and placing it on the bike. As you fix your hair, he takes his helmet off as well, placing it next to yours.

You slightly shuffle on your feet as you prepare to say your goodbyes. When he turns back to look at you, you smile earnestly. 

“I had a fun time tonight… despite you being a meanie at the gym.” you try to lighten up the tension.

“Only for you bub,” he jokes back, making finger-hearts at you.

“Good night, Eren.” you laugh as you wave at him and turn to walk away. You barely take a step when you hear him say your name.

“Hmm?” you turn around to look at him again. He doesn’t speak but takes one long stride to close the distance between you, wrapping his hands around your waist. As if on instinct, you drop your bag to the ground and place your hands on his shoulders, looking up at him as your breath hitches in your throat again.

He brings his left hand up to your cheek, dipping his head down to kiss your lips without any further delay. His wider frame envelopes yours as the hand on your cheek snakes back to hold your head in place as he deepens the kiss. You wrap both your hands around his neck, standing on your tippy toes for better access while his lower hand wraps around your waist even tighter.

When your lips finally part to catch your breaths, he looks you in the eye, smiling contently. Your legs feel giddy from the high you’re experiencing and you’re glad he’s still holding you flush against his body.

“I’d been dying to do that ever since I laid my eyes on you… figured it’d be pretty stupid of me to let the opportunity go twice in a row,” he confesses, dipping his head down again to kiss you once again.

You’re surprised, your brain reeling at the information but you close your eyes nonetheless, getting lost in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

“Yeah, it would’ve been pretty stupid,” you smile when he pulls back. You pull him down by the collar to give him a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for not wasting any more chances.”

You run your hands through his loose strands and he hums as he closes his eyes. You pull him down for another deep kiss. His tongue invades your mouth and he squeezes your ass as he pulls your body further closer to his. When you feel his boner from under his clothing, it causes you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands move down his sides, lowering further but he stops your movement with his own hands holding your wrists firmly. He pulls away from the kiss, eyes still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. His hot breath fans your face as he speaks, “It’s taking everything in me to not come up to your place to fuck you right now.”

“Then do it,” you mewl desperately as you kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss but breaks it once again to speak, “No, I wanna do this right. Let me take you out on a real date first… tomorrow evening?”

You feel your cheeks burn up as you bite your bottom lip to contain the grin threatening to give away your excitement as you nod. You stand on your toes once again to give him a quick peck. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, enveloping you into a comforting hug.

“Take this with you,” he mumbles as he goes to grab a helmet. He leans down to grab your bag from the floor, handing both the items to you.

“Good night Eren,” you smile. He cups your face with both his hands and leans down to kiss you again – it’s brief but passionate.

“Good night baby,” he smiles as he lightly smacks your ass, earning a yelp from you. Before you can scold him, he gives you a hasty kiss before making his way to his bike. You walk to the elevator and press the button, turning to look back at him as he secures his helmet.

He starts the bike but waits till he sees you enter the elevator. Just as the door closes, you catch a glimpse of him leaving. You lean back against the railing, covering your face with your hands, not really believing what had just occurred. 

The man you’d been pining over for months had been crushing over you all along too. 

Eren Jaeger never was just another unrequited crush – and come tomorrow, he’s going to mean a lot more than just a friend.

[undersprite]

2024 Comic Contest Results

Before we get started, I would like to extend a personal thank you to everyone who created an entry for the contest this year. Although we only got four entries this year, those four entries' dedication to telling stories that are novel and interesting for this community to enjoy is worthy of commendation in itself. For a while, I was scared we wouldn't even get enough entries to fill the podium; thanks to your efforts, this has not come to pass.

Since we have very few entries this time around, I'll be providing a link to each comic, with accompanying scores and excerpts from reviews. Now, catch the results under the cut:

Runner-Up: "The Undertale Game Comic" by FutureGamer25

(Average score: 15.5/50)

"As the submitter says, this was made in a day. I can’t be too hard on this out of principle..." - Soufon

"[...it] succeeded at making me laugh multiple times, thanks in no small part to how it deliberately wields nothing looking like it fits together." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"You know, honestly for being made in less than a day and being posted 5 minutes before the deadline, I gotta give you a lot of credit for that. I don’t even think I could have made that in a day [...]" - Mufeet

"The freaking car and the ending got me a good chuckle. I'll give you that. I congratulate you for tossing your coin." - Subna

3rd: "Frisk Visits the Store and Nothing Happens" by Trooper3

(Average score: 34/50)

"I thought Sans and ESPECIALLY Papyrus were super funny [...] I think we’ve finally reached a point where the skele-bros are just consistently characterized properly now, and I love to see it." - Mufeet

"The FunMart[TM] makes an earnest effort to capture the feeling of exploring an area in an actual Toby Fox game, and [...] captures at least a bit of that shine." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"I honestly like your idea, is funny and it works perfectly to show these OCs of yours in this format. I wish there was more content to see about them, I wish to know them [...]" - Subna

"As light as it is, I like having this kind of slice of life look into UT’s world, the comedy focus helping to make the comic feel more breezy than insubstantial." - Soufon

2nd: "Undertale: Pushing On" by Mouse

(Average score: 34.75/50)

"Of all the entries we got, this is the only one that really felt like it captured the essence of telling a story as if it were still part of a game—something I have sorely missed." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"Great story and great teaching from it. Can add up greatly to UNDERTALE’s world and...tbh I’d LOVE to play a full game with Alvia." - Subna

"[...] I like having who [Gerson] is in UT be because of Alvia’s actions, like how the orange soul kid is framed as responsible for the bunny family in Snowdin’s success - having all the soul humans impact the underground like that helps all of them feel real to UT’s world[...]" -Soufon

"I was captivated from beginning to end, and god, the ending [...] it actually made me a bit teary-eyed." - Mufeet

1st: "Knock Knock" by StarlightShores and ToMoChao

(Average score: 47/50)

"I was not expecting something like this out of this contest. Knock Knock is a substantial storyline, not a peek into an adventure, or a silly reprieve." - Soufon

"Even if it’s pretty lengthy, it keeps you engaged, to know where this is all going, all the way to the end." - Subna

"Flowey and Sans pair-ups are so rare, but when done it is ALWAYS such a fun time. They both play off each other so well, and it is no exception in this comic, especially towards the end where they start to bond over dealing with the loss of someone important to them." - Mufeet

"You created a story going on a thousand panels where, while reading it, my attention never flagged [...] You created a webcomic the Undertale fanbase will, if there’s any justice left around here, be obsessed with for years to come. It’s art, I’m afraid." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

Our full score card for the event can be seen here. The full reviews will be available in the Discord server on request.

With regards to prizes: the judge whom was contributing to our prize pool has begun college for the year, and unfortunately they were unable to set aside the money they had originally promised for the cash prize. The illustration prize is still available; winners, please reach out to fmsdraws on Discord to claim your prize.

And that leaves me...with this blog.

I'd like to write up a proper postmortem for this experience, but that can come in another week or two. For now, please enjoy the comics and celebrate the victors!

[mrsjellymunson]

Hey, Boss

A prequel to Hello, Stranger

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jim Hopper, Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington, Mr Kaplan, Dembe Zuma

Pairing: None until the next part (where it becomes Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

AU: Stranger Things AU with elements of The Blacklist

Summary: Eddie falls into a new line of work…

WC: ~3.9k

CW: 18+ MDNI. This miniseries is SFW, depending on your tolerance for dark/violent themes, but most of my blog is 18+ so minors please be aware of this and DNI. Dark humour, black comedy. Allusions to drug use, alcohol consumption, violence, crime and murder. Weapons, bodies and death are discussed. No smut, no reader in this part. This is a Stranger Things AU, the upside down is very briefly alluded to but Eddie doesn’t know about it. No time period mentioned, so if events or technology don’t track that’s why that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. The characters don’t know each other like they do in ST.

A/N: This is the prequel to ‘Hello, Stranger’. The two parts can be read in either order. As in the original part, there are some Easter eggs in here, this time from The Blacklist (obvs), Stargate, and a deliciously niche one from John Wick. Let me know if you spot any!

A/N additional: I would never have believed that I’d be revisiting this story a year after publishing it to add a fun little prologue, but here we are! 😃 The original part was written for a Halloween prompt event last year and was the first lengthy thing I’d shared; I was SO ridiculously nervous about posting it, you have no idea 🫣 Reading it again now, would I change things in the original? Yes. But mainly things like punctuation and formatting, because I think over the last year my writing has become clearer, so I’m kinda pleased that I’d leave the story exactly how it is. For anyone discovering this for the first time, I hope you enjoy!! Please let me know with a comment/reblog/feral spewings in my inbox, I’d love it, srsly 😉🖤

I have an Easter egg reveal post planned for this miniseries, if you’d like to hear about it just ask to be added to my general taglist where you can get notified about all my writing posts ☺️🖤

My masterlist

It’s a chilly October night, close to Halloween, and Eddie’s blasted out of his mind. Gareth got hold of some super strong skunk from a cousin who was visiting from out of state, and that combined with a few cool beers has left him even more buzzed than usual.

Forgoing his van on the insistence of his friends, and wanting to get home to the relative warmth of the trailer sooner rather than later, he’s decided to take a shortcut across Merrill Wright’s fields.

High as all hell, he's staggering as he navigates the pumpkins, managing to avoid most of the obvious orange orbs but forgetting that their tendrils need looking out for too.

He’s already tripped a couple of times, and curses out the vines for both being invisible at night and clearly conspiring with each other to sabotage his journey home. He swears that at least twice he’s seen them move...

Pushing through a thin layer of trees separating one field from the next, he stumbles forwards as an impeding branch snaps and gives way. Moving too quickly to stop himself, he totters forwards, hoping to regain his balance once he’s free of the spindly foliage.

But surprisingly, his feet fail to connect with anything at all, the ground disappears, and Eddie falls face first into… nothing.

Though it doesn’t remain nothing for long, swiftly becoming the harsh smack of hard, and very cold, dirt against his knees, torso and face.

Shocked, confused and more than a little winded, Eddie grunts and rolls onto his side, groaning. 

“Oooooohhhhhh fuuuuuuuckk…. What the hell—?”

He spits out a few clods of mud, and possibly part of a worm (sorry, dude), and tries to work out what just happened.

His hair has fallen over his face, and he pushes the waves, now bedecked with a sprinkling of leaves and soil, out of his eyes and looks upwards. 

Instead of the expected expanse of the clear night sky, perhaps even a few constellations if he cared to look carefully, his vision seems to have tunnelled, a significant proportion of it now a deep black. 

Sitting upright, he briefly wonders whether he’s concussed, or worse, but then the sound of someone speaking garners his undivided attention.

A light, high voice cuts through the night. 

“Hey, do you hear something?”

Eddie freezes, eyes wide. He’s not sure whether he’s comforted or more freaked out to discover he’s not the only one in this field at this time of night. This dark, isolated, middle-of-nowhere, nobody-within-screaming-distance field.

Another voice, deeper than the first, replies, 

“Like what?”

“I dunno, a grunt maybe?”

“A grunt? Uhh, no.”

“Why am I asking you anyway? Your ears are shot after one too many sportsball encounters…”

“Hey, shut up.”

Eddie hears some shuffling and a chortle, like two people jostling each other, before the deeper voice speaks again, but it’s in no way comforting.

“Uh, this guy’s definitely dead, right?”

There’s a noise that sounds like thick plastic being prodded with something.

“Yeah, yeah, this guy definitely. But I’m sure I heard something from over there.”

“Are you trying to spook me? You know how much I hate Halloween.”

Eddie hears an overly dramatic brrr and the rustling of clothing, and he imagines the guy shivering, like he’s shaking off a covering of non-existent snow.

Eddie, terrified but with a new sense of urgency, and eyes adjusting to the new level of darkness, glances more fully around his environment, figuring out that he’s definitely below ground level and in some kind of a hole. He spreads his arms wide, moving them around, and notices he can feel the edges on two sides, but not all four, meaning it’s a long hole. Long enough for him to lay down in. A hole, long enough to fit a human being in, but not much else. Okay, so… 

Wait, this is a fucking grave! Fuck, he’s in a goddamn motherfucking grave!!

Eddie stands, wobbling a little, and notices his eyeline is still below ground level. He reaches up, grabbing at the soil at the edge of the hole, but it’s dry and loose and crumbles in his hands. He tries to jump, grabbing at anything he can find on the ground, but to no avail. It’s tilled earth and there are no branches or roots, not even grass, that he can grab to pull himself out. He mentally takes back everything he said about pumpkin vines…

Suddenly he hears a dull thud, the sound of dragging, muttering, and two people grunting. 

Shit, they’re getting closer. And now there’s a large package wrapped in blue plastic at the edge of the hole, and they’ve just dropped two shovels, and—

Feigning nonchalance, Eddie leans a muddy shoulder against the raw earth, one hand on his hip and the other swiping through his hair as two faces, backlit by moonlight, hove into view. His voice cracks with,

“Hee-eeey guys, how’s it goin’?”

What the hell?? He’s literally standing in an open grave, that these two have probably just dug, and that’s the best he can come up with?

The figures regard Eddie, then turn to each other, then look back at Eddie. They both frown and in unison cock their heads sideways in the same direction, and Eddie, stoned and in shock as he is, has to suppress a giggle. 

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Damn you, Gareth’s cousin!

One of the figures, the slighter of the two, gestures into the hole with a muddy, gloved hand, asking, 

“Is he one of yours?”

The other guy looks both startled and mildly offended.

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, there was that one time where you, y’know, missed the mark, and we had to spend an hour chasing the guy before we put him down.”

The taller of the two flaps his arms exasperatedly, trying to point an index finger in the air but failing, the heavy duty gloves he’s wearing making him look more like he’s holding up a fist.

“One time! The one time I miss a goddamn artery and you’ve never let me live it down. Jeez man, gimme a goddamn break!”

“Okay, okay, I’m just sayin’”

“Well don’t! I don’t appreciate it when you criticise my abilities and undermine my self esteem.”

The slimmer figure speaks again, resting the knuckles of one gloved hand against their waist.

“Did your therapist tell you to say that?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. She’s helping me process my intergenerational trauma and internalised lack of self-worth.” 

The tall figure says the words like he’s reciting from a book, but he says them with conviction. Eddie briefly wonders whether he should ask the guy for the title. He finishes with, 

“Anyway, I don’t know who the fuck this asshole is.”

Hands now on his hips, he turns his attention back to Eddie, who, whilst they’d been talking, had been surreptitiously clawing at the back edge of the hole, trying desperately to lever himself out.

The figure with the higher voice turns to their compatriot, and with a somewhat sardonic tone to their voice remarks,

“Well, I suppose we’d better try and find out who this asshole is, and where he came from, huh?”

They lean forwards into the hole and brace themselves with their hands against their knees.

The skinnier figure begins the interrogation with,

“Did Andrea send you? Was it Annie?”

The taller guy continues,

“Wait, was it Red? Cuz if it was Red you can tell him it’s not fuckin’ funny…”

Eddie stammers,

“N-n-o, man, no. I don’t know who any of those people are. I’m, uh, I’m nobody, literally! I was just stoned, and walkin’ home and I, uh, just kinda, fell into this… whatever this delightful arrangement is.”

He gestures around him, attempting to convey that he neither knows, nor cares, exactly what this is.

Tall guy regards him down his nose.

“So, if nobody sent you, then nobody knows you’re here. But now you know we’re here. And I’m guessing that you’re guessing what we’re about to do here. So, I’m guessing the best thing all the way around is if you, y’know, stay here…”

Eddie, in his inebriated state, didn’t completely follow what this guy just said, but when the guy reaches behind him into his belt, and Eddie hears the unmistakable metallic clink of a gun being retrieved, he gets the message pretty damn quickly. 

The shovels, the ‘package’, the gun… oh god!

“Nonononono! Waitwaitwait!!”

He extends his arms and frantically waves his filthy hands in front of him in supplication. 

Think, Eddie, think!! What would you encourage the sheep to do in such an impossible campaign situation? Thiiiiiiink!

The guy levels the gun at Eddie’s head. He still can’t see their faces clearly, but he can most certainly make out the end of the barrel as it glints in the moonlight.

Eddie scrunches his eyes up tight, grimacing, every muscle in his body tensing in expectation of the horror to come.

Abruptly, his mind fills with the most bizarre and inspired creative idea that he thinks he’s ever had.

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Thank you, Gareth’s cousin!

“What if I told you I could help make your job easier? Maybe more enjoyable? Or, at the very least, more interesting?”

He sees the barrel of the gun lower ever so slightly. 

Oh good, now it’s not aimed at his head. Just at his chest. Progress?

He presses on.

“Your bosses want you to make people disappear, right? Boring, efficient, sure. But not that interesting. Probably doesn’t pay all that well either, huh?”

The two figures look at each other again, frowning, and Eddie’s pretty sure they're deciding whether they should let the guy in the hole keep talking, or just shut him up for good, drop the other package in and cover them both over.

“How about we give ‘em a little something extra first? Like a show? A demonstration. An exhibition, if you will.”

Eddie’s got into his stride now, and is walking up and down the length of the six foot hole waving his arms in wide arcs, as if he’s delivering one of his lunchtime diatribes on a canteen table.

“Say there’s some guy who’s been messin’ with your patch. Goods are goin’ missing, or his funds are coming up short. Sure, you could just pop a cap in him and stick him in the ground,” 

He glances nervously at the tarp-wrapped bundle, 

“But wouldn’t it be more satisfying to really teach him a lesson. Bury him at the four corners of the state? Spray him all over this field? Dissolve him ‘til there’s nothing left? Now that really sends a message, don’tcha think? Plus, it’d sure be entertaining for your bosses to watch. Must get pretty boring for them. Y’know, pop a guy, wrap a guy, pop a guy, wrap a guy…”

He regards the two heavies carefully, trying to judge whether he’s made any impression on them whatsoever. They’re looking at each other and then back at Eddie.

Eventually the bigger figure speaks.

“Whaddaya think, Rob? Shall we take him back to talk to—“

“Fuckssake Steve, don’t tell him my name! Ah, fuck, Jeez…”

Sighing, the figure turns back towards Eddie.

“Yeah, okay, if this is as revelatory as you say it is, then fine. But it better be. Don’t make us come back out here for a second time tonight.”

Eddie takes this threat very, very seriously. 

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I swear.”

The figure pauses for a moment, contemplative, before puffing out a long breath from between their lips.

“Well, for a start you can help us finish up with this guy. Steve, get him out of that hole and pass him my shovel...”

Eddie’s only thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not right now…

———

An hour later, freezing, muddy, exhausted, still terrified and, incongruously, still a little stoned, Eddie walks between Rob and Steve back to their vehicle, an SUV that he notices has “Buckley & Harrington, Landscaping Services & Specialised Waste Disposal” emblazoned on the side. 

‘Specialised waste disposal’ indeed… 

They bundle Eddie into the back, Rob grousing the whole way, and make him lie under yet another blue tarp so he can’t see where they’re going. He doesn’t much like being on this side of the plastic, and dearly hopes it’s the only time he has to experience it.

After some time, and a number of bruises acquired from sliding around the truck bed, the truck stops and the two figures start to bundle Eddie out of the back.

Still partially under the tarp, Eddie sees the lower half of a large, heavy set man in military fatigues and combat boots join them outside. Still shaken from the evening’s events and disoriented from the uncomfortable journey, Eddie can’t quite make out their entire conversation. He does hear what the hell and let me explain, plus a lot of grumbling in what could be a West African accent.

Finally freed from the tarp, Eddie is grabbed by the shoulders from behind by a pair of very strong hands, dragged off the truck bed and shoved, stumbling, forwards.

The three figures walk him into an old warehouse, the huge shutters open to the night and the entire place brightly lit and remarkably active given the hour. It’s crammed with pallets, shelves, crates, people and machinery. There are forklifts lifting things in and out of trucks and people carrying paperwork and speaking on phones. Many seem to have ominous-looking bulges in their waistbands and jackets that Eddie really doesn’t want to become any more closely acquainted with.

A large man is barking orders and holding a mug that says coffee and contemplation on the side, but judging by the subtle wince that happens each time he takes a swig, Eddie suspects it contains something stronger than his favourite Java. His voice is gruff, and to his great surprise, Eddie recognises it. 

“Uh, Hopper, is that you?”

The man turns, frowning at first, but as he clocks Eddie his free hand flaps dejectedly at his side and his eyes roll up into his skull. 

“Oh Jeez. What the hell is he doing here? What have you two idiots done now?”

Eddie's new acquaintances look sheepishly at each other. The one named Rob ventures,

“Uh, he has a proposal for Red, something about a novel business idea?”

“Goddamnit, I know this guy! And now, thanks to you two bozos, he knows me too!”

Steve interjects this time,

“Just give him five minutes with Mr Kaplan, boss! Honestly, I think Red’s gonna love this.”

Hopper doesn’t look convinced, but he grabs a guy with a clipboard as he scurries past and asks him to find whoever Mr Kaplan is. Eddie doesn’t like the sound of this. The dude sounds pretty scary.

After no more than a minute, a small, tweed-clad lady appears. She’s older than everyone here, and her face is pinched, but somehow also looks kind. Eddie imagines she’d look far more at home in a library than… whateverthisis. He wonders if she’s Mr Kaplan’s secretary, or something.

“Come on then you two, spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

The two stammer and splutter their way through an explanation, trying to justify why they not only spared this guy, but also brought him back to their base of operations. Eddie finally comprehends that this is Mr Kaplan. He doesn’t know whether to be relieved, or even more terrified.

At various points Mr Kaplan sucks in her cheeks, tilts her head and folds her arms, reminding Eddie of every disapproving teacher he ever had, and more than once he considers how far he might get if he hightailed it through those large doors and made off into the night. But then he remembers how he got here, who he’s with, the amount of hardware everyone appears to be carrying, how often he skipped PT at school, how much he’s smoked this evening (not to mention over the last however many years), and, not least, the fact that he has less than no clue about where he actually is. 

Finally, the two cronies stop talking, and Mr Kaplan’s focus turns entirely to Eddie. Despite being significantly taller than she is, he feels about two feet high under her gaze, and that this moment could be about to define his future, his fate.

“Well, dearie, it’s certainly a unique proposition. And one I’m intrigued to see if you can pull off. But ultimately, it’s not my decision. All I can do is get you a meeting with Red, and then you’re on your own.”

Steve seems thrilled by this outcome, his eyes wide and a grin on his lips. He shifts in place excitedly and jovially taps his elbow against Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie side-eyes him, guessing the guy is pleased that he isn’t going to suffer any repercussions for going ‘off script’ by bringing Eddie here like this, but he does wonder what on earth makes him think they’re ever going to be friends.

Mr Kaplan nods to Hopper, who takes this as his cue and disappears out of sight. Mr Kaplan doesn’t see it, but Eddie notices his weary-looking eye roll.

Eddie finally gets a good look at the guy who ‘helped’ him off the truck and brought him inside. He’s tall, huge, shaven-headed and intimidating. Eddie doesn’t look for long.

After a few minutes, the shaven-headed heavy motions for Eddie to step into a somewhat more private area of the warehouse, sectioned off by some disturbing-looking medical curtains on rusting rails that offer visual, if not much auditory, privacy. Eddie figures the noise of vehicles and machinery elsewhere likely drown out any talking that goes on in here anyway.

There’s a screen set up that’s displaying a fuzzy, low quality image of a man sitting in what appears to be a lavish sitting room. There’s a picture of a landscape, or maybe sky, hanging to his left, and the audio quality is marred by a low rumble. Eventually, Eddie’s brain catches up and he realises it’s not a picture at all but a window, and what Eddie can see is clouds and what he can hear is the roar of an engine - the guy’s on a plane. All he can think is, Jeezus, this guy must be loaded.

As the image comes into better focus the figure looks oddly familiar. Eddie’s vaguely reminded of a sci-fi film he saw that had Kirt Russell in it and something about pyramids, but he brushes it aside, more important things on his mind. 

The man is clad in a fedora and an exquisitely tailored suit, and as Eddie is positioned in front of what he presumes is a camera the figure removes his hat and lifts a crystal tumbler containing a deep brown liquid to his lips.

Hopper fills Eddie in.

“This is Mr Reddington. You can speak when he says you can.”

The well-dressed man speaks first, in a voice that’s even more imposing than that of the tall heavy who brought Eddie in here. 

“I understand you have a business proposition for me, young man. I’d like to hear it directly from you, if I may?”

Eddie thinks quickly, describing possible scenarios that he’s come up with. He reiterates the ideas he had earlier, and adds a few more, getting inspiration from horror movies, comics, and even some of his D&D campaigns.

“That does all sound very interesting. And heaven knows we need some levity in this business. But I do need to confer with my colleagues. Chief, what do you think? Does this kid’s idea have legs?”

Hopper and Red have a moment of eye contact, before Hopper sighs loudly and admits, reluctantly,

“It is kinda novel. And he’s basically a good kid, don’t kill him yet, huh? He can be annoying as fuck, but goddamnit if he goes missing we’d have to do at least some kind of an investigation. The amount of people I’d have to interview, the press… The paperwork alone would be hell…”

He pinches the top of his nose, and Red purses his lips, apparently conceding that Hopper’s time would be much better spent doing whatever it is that he does for him rather than wasting it on unimportant matters such as police work. His expression suddenly brightens, and the formerly imposing figure on the screen turns disconcertingly jovial.

“Well, I think it sounds like fun. I’ll tell you what, we’ll try him out for a couple of months and see how he does.”

Hopper turns to look at Eddie.

“Okay, Munson, we’re gonna give you a try. You’d better keep it interesting though, or so help me…”

He makes a small but unsubtle slicing motion across his neck with his thumb. Eddie takes it at face value, knowing he means it.

Red addresses the whole group now.

“You know, this reminds me of the time I was playing miniature golf in Andalucia with the Sultan of Brunei and Jimmy Hoffer. Richard Pryor walked up and asked if any of us knew anything about llama farming. We all looked at him askance, I mean, do any of us look like we did? But then, to my great surprise and delight, the Sultan said…”

The burly dude holds Eddie around the shoulders again, but more gently than before. At least, Eddie assumes it’s gentle. The guy’s stature suggests significantly more physical ‘prowess’, which Eddie’s grateful he's not been on the receiving end of. He’s steered away from the screen and back towards the main area of the warehouse.

Nervously, just before they leave the curtained off area and afraid this might be seen as an offense, Eddie stammers,

“Where’re we- Shouldn’t I…?”

The man’s deep, caramel voice carries easily to Eddie’s ears, as he remarks,

“Trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of any more of Raymond’s epic tales than you absolutely have to be. You can thank me later.”

Eddie looks back over his shoulder, just in time to see Chief Hopper’s brow crinkle and raise in what looks to be a poor facsimile of engagement, and he takes another, deep, swig from his coffee mug. He, apparently, knew he was in it for the duration.

They reach the area where Steve and Rob are still standing, apparently playing some kind of thumb war game. The big guy extends a powerful-looking hand towards Eddie, clasping his own in an iron grip. There’s a soft smile on his face as he looks down and says,

“Welcome to the team. I’m Dembe, by the way.”

Mr Kaplan finishes up a conversation she’s having nearby with another pair of guys with clipboards and conspicuous gun holsters, and as she’s making her way out, she remarks to Eddie,

“You’re in luck, you can start tonight. We’re expecting another package, so you can help these two clowns. God knows they need it.”

Steve frowns, and Rob emits a quiet,

“Hey—”

Mr Kaplan continues,

“No need for anything elaborate right now dearie, save that for next time. But we do need some supplies. Dembe, get him some cash from the office.”

Eddie’s conflicted. He’s confused, excited, relieved, and, yep, still a little wasted.

He does have his typical nervousness about how well he’s actually gonna be able to “perform”, and how long he can keep up the interest in what he’s suggested. Following a brief discussion with Steve and Rob, a few crumpled bills are shoved into his overly-sweaty palm.

Of course, his main thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not tonight… 

But his overriding concern soon becomes:

Where the hell is he going to find rope, duct tape and a shovel at this time of night??

Next part, ‘Hello, Stranger’

My masterlist

I really hope you enjoyed this little prologue! Please reblog and leave comments, your support means everything to writers 🖤🙏

Tagging my ‘everything’ list, ILY @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy @richter-raccoon @1deverland

Also tagging those who commented on/reblogged the first one, just lemme know if you’d rather not be! @bakusquadobsessed @mewchiili @bettyfrommars @pedroschka @transparent-enemy @ali-r3n @fracturedarkness @tinytyphooncloud @alverdekote @elegantkoalapaper @ddaydreamdelusionss @ramona-thorns @vitzi9 @lurkingprincess @cherrysabbath @pullingattheroots

[isagrimorie]

Watching YouTube reactions to the last Agatha All Along episode I'm struck by how many people seem to disregard Agatha's actual grief and regret over, IMO, accidentally draining Alice to death. (Question mark?)

The Nerdy Nightly channel's review on the episode had a more nuanced take recognizing not only Agatha's complexity but also the metaphor of addiction that applies not just to Agatha, but to almost everyone in the coven.

I'm glad more people are discussing this metaphor for Agatha. It makes Agatha so interesting.

Also, in light of this, I think we can't push past that Evanora's ghost meant for Agatha to drain someone in the coven so they would all turn against her.

It's almost like pushing an addict off the wagon, except pushing Agatha off the sobriety train means people die.

Jac Schaeffer was never interested in simplistic morality plays. She is committed to exploring characters in all their complexities, allowing them to be their fullest, often flawed, selves.

Schaeffer explained her character writing approach while writing WandaVision:

“It was important to us that it be all Wanda and that it would be her responsibility because we didn’t want—we weren’t doing Mephisto, Nightmare, the Grim Reaper, or any other people or entities,” Scheffer explained. “If we’re not going to take the cheap way out that there’s this other force, right, if we’re going to give the gift of storytelling to Wanda, I give the whole power, she also then has the culpability and has the accountability.”

(source: Gizmondo) (hat tip to: @ennn)

(Emphasis mine.)

And it seems Schaeffer's views on writing have changed with Agatha All Along. She doesn't want an easy answer for Agatha's character, and that's genuinely refreshing. For a Disney+ character to be allowed to have her flawed and authentic self?

It feels right. It feels real.

Schaeffer mentions this in a recent interview with Script Mag:

I think the fun of Tony Stark is that he wants to be bad, but he's a hero despite himself. But Agatha is not that. Agatha is not a hero, despite herself. Agatha is entirely selfish and self-serving. I don't know, I feel like it should have been harder. It should have been more like, 'Oh, gosh, how are we going to make this villain sympathetic?' But it wasn't that challenging because she's not. It's never her aim to hurt someone. She doesn't hurt anyone just for the fun of it. She's interested in two things: She’s interested in what serves her and she's interested in witchcraft, specifically, enormously powerful witchcraft.

Schaeffer goes on to say that all main characters in Agatha All Along function as anti-heroes. And the writers go on lengthy debates about the story beats and character choices.

Later on in the same interview with Script Mag, Schaeffer discusses Agatha's hidden motivations.

The way I defined Agatha—prior to the room, prior to anything—is that she's a liar, that it's just masks. This show is about pulling that mask all the way off. And what do we see? What is under the mask? It's hard to talk about at this point because there's so many spoilers inherent in that. 

But I think what you can get from the earliest episodes is that, yes, she wants power, right? That's her superficial goal. That's her super objective. But that can't be it, right? That's boring. What's underneath it? And it's fairly clear from the beginning that she reluctantly wants community, that this is a covenless witch who, deep down, wants a coven. And that's fascinating to me. What did Wanda want? She wanted to be safe and cozy with her family. That was a that was a very clear, true north. But there, the friction was the sort of logistical trappings were untenable. For Agatha, she's in the way of her own thing. And it's much more of a subtext and a fabric that we then exploit and explore deeper into the show.

I love that we haven't been reading Agatha wrong -- Agatha does want, deep down, to have a community but she's been wearing her mask for too long that Agatha's also her own worst enemy. Her reputation and defensive persona push people away.

When backed into a corner, Agatha slips on the mask of a villain because if she hurts them first, then no one can hurt her.

It's so fun and interesting to have a character like Agatha again! Especially within Disney+ Marvel's ecosystem of shows.

Netflix Marvel used to feature similarly complex characters but Disney+ Marvel shows have struggled to find that line.

[inbabylontheywept]

So. So. I have a horrific backlog in my inbox, and past attempts at answering it have generated more asks. Generally at a higher rate than I could answer the asks. Exceeding escape velocity. And I've been mulling over how to solve this, and my idea was to create a super-bus answer post. It'll be a little lengthy, so, you know. Click read more at your own risk. Roll them dice.

Well, you clicked it. God speed and god bless.

--- @meowserita says

I feel obligated to tell you i stayed up till four am reading a bunch of you stories, because they're incredible. Also feel like saying that the only other times ive stayed up this late in recent memory is when i was binge reading one piece so take that as you will. We'll see how much i regret this but odds are i wont like i didnt regret staying up reading one piece

Hahaha! Ha! Oof. I am extremely flattered and awed and impressed but also, my stories are going to be there tomorrow, and the next day, and maybe forever depending on how this whole "civilization" thing pans out. So. Sleep more. But also thank you for being a mega fan.

I had like, a week long binge of Naruto in middleschool that was awful. I didn't even like the show that much. People recommend anime to me now, and I feel like a former alcoholic turning down drinks at a party. No thank you, there's a 99% that will simply help be relax after work one day and a 1% chance that will ruin my life and I'll catch myself unironically saying "believe it!" years later, and I just can't take that chance. I have too many people depending on me.

---

Anonymous says

i see you are also from Utah. do you have a favorite swig menu item

No. I've never actually been into a Swig. There were a few soda shops back in AZ, but I never really got them either - I'm still not sure how a gummy shark in a blue soda is supposed to make it taste better.

My poison is generally gas station stuff. Slurpees are amazing, and I also like their little pickled sausage snack things. Probably literal poison, but they call to me.

---

Anonymous says

four more messages in my head. four more tests of sanity.

hm. troubling. hope you pass.

---

Anonymous says

yooo “fireflies infinity mirror room” mention!!! i lived in Tempe for a few years…one time i was making my way down the escalator from the PHX skytrain and there was a group of like 20-30 Mormons (?) at the base of the escalator waiting there to welcome out-of-state Mormons to some sort of Mormon convention in…well, Mesa, presumably? google is now telling me it may have been for the Easter pageant.

That does sound likely. My grandpa was actually in charge of the easter pageant for a few years down there - I actually broke my arm on the little pony Mary rides to Bethlehem. I was trying to keep my little brother and sister on it by using my arms as a seatbelt, but when they fell off anyway, I just had to kids land on my arm from 6 foot drop and got blessed me with a third elbow. I had some crazy ideas on how to become a professional baseball player with it, but my dad insisted we go to the hospital to do drugs, and when I woke up they fixed the damn thing. Could've gone pro.

---

@synapticwanderer says

hello! just wanted to say I'm a big fan, your stories make me laugh and sometimes cry and sometimes both, sometimes at once. when my partner asks me what I'm laughing so hard at I read them to them, and sometimes I just go read them to them anyway. thank you for sharing your delightful way with words with us, and I hope you don't mind that I've got notifications on for your posts (you and I think three other writers at the moment) anyway, have a great day!

I don't mind! I hope I haven't ruined that privilege, actually, I shitpost more than most people think. I like mixing happy and sad as well as silly and earnest. But. Yes. A lot of shitposts.

Anyway, thank you for the comment! Happy trails.

---

@funnynamedottxt says

I kept hearing about your wrestling post, and then I saw the word “bisexual” when you were talking about it, so, needless to say, I sought it out immediately.

And, while this isn’t technically part of the actual post, in that reblog where you were talking to that one dude about sexism and societal issues and shit, you made some pussy joke about Lake Michigan and that may just be the best thing I’ve read all week.

Sorry about the run on sentence btw, I know it probably deeply hurts the writer in you, but I find it funny and am too lazy to self-censor sooooo

I'm glad you had a good time reading it. I don't know which gender I'd imagine the great lakes as to be honest. I just know that their thing with Michigan is beautiful and would be very distracting should I ever become an astronaut. I don't want to make fun of people for wanting a better world, and I would actually say I did a botch job on my response. Didn't realize it until several hundred people got mad at me. I know I write well, and the catch .22 of that is that people assume that my ability to read the room is probably higher than it is.

Anyway. I don't fault them for getting mad. Not my finest hour.

And I'm not a snob about run on sentences by the way. English teachers want to make rules about how you write and rules to follow, but that's because they need to grade by rubrics for it to be fair. It turns an art form into something mechanical though. Just make it natural and the rest comes after.

---

@00x7 says

Hi. I hope you're doing well.

I had read your wrestling story. I had not laughed so hard in a great many years. I thank you for this, though I am also sympathetic to your misfortunes.

There was enough going on that I was naturally curious if you were or are Mormon, a curiosity born from being someone who grew up as such myself (something that being queer doesn't really bump up nicely against, though you hardly would need to hear such a thing from me), and which visiting your blog quickly answered for me.

Of course, scrolling down for two seconds immediately had me realize that you were also the kid with the grandpa and the worms. I had read the worm story before, but visiting somewhere and realizing it was you was a nearly transcendent experience. My third eye was rather forcibly opened. What a storied life you have had.

Anyway, as an amateur writer, I'm very happy to have found your blog. We don't know eachother, but your words resonate with me.

Whenever you read this, I hope you have a good one. Thank you.

Oh! That's my favorite thing - when people like two different stories with very different tones. It's kind of a would you love me if I wasn't beautiful sort of question - would you like my writing if it wasn't purely silly? And it makes me happy when the answer is yes.

I actually wandered through your blog to try and find your writing, but I didn't have much luck. I'd love to see some, if you're willing. Send me a link if you keep it on another platform. I couldn't do a critique if I wanted to - all my writing knowledge is just gut level stuff that I don't know how to share - but it's just a fun way to know people. And sometimes, I see a style and I go ah, I can pick a few shiny bits off this and wear them around.

---

@turtletotem says Your bio says to tell you if we write, so, new follower here, and i write! Lots of fanfic (links in bio) and also original fiction under Shelly Greene and Elizabeth Belyeu (both on Amazon). Feel free to check it out, but I won’t take it personal if you don’t, lol.

I checked your pages on AO3 for this, and alas - No snippets for me first. You write books and novels, which is something I've always aspired towards, and never really suceeded at. I had this view when I started writing short stories that I'd eventually writer longer stories and serials and in fact I just got better at writing short stories. Which isn't much of a tragedy, actually, but it's a road I haven't really moved forward on yet. Writer to writer.

As a reader, I already have several books I've promised to read people. If you have any shorter works (less than 5k words?) lob them my way though! c

---

Anonymous says

Just read your post about Atlas Shrugged (my condolences, comrade) and I must, simply MUST ask if you've ever heard of The Cobra Commander Dialogues? It asks the very important question "what if Cobra Commander was there and found this all at best inane and stupid, and at worst it offended his villainous sensibilities?" As someone who hasn't read the book OR watched the cartoon I found it very entertaining!

I just took a peeksies at those - they're beautiful. Dialogue is a great weakness of mine, and it is hard not to be a little envious of this writer. Thanks for sharing this with me.

For the curious

---

Anonymous says

Your story about the breakup and the olives and the Slim Jim's and your dad made me cry -- not like, tear up, but an actual good cry for a couple minutes. I don't totally know why I reacted like that but I definitely felt better in some way afterwards. So, thanks. I think I'm gonna remember that story for the rest of my life.

The story stuck with me both because everyone involved was good. My ex's dad, the neighbor, my dad - everyone was doing their best. And it was true, wasn't it? Brains are good at remembering bad things. It's a breakup. And it hurt like hell. But the pain of that memory carries with it this feeling well, even when things suck, people don't. I also liked this view of my dad parenting so consciously. It wasn't a background thing to him. He thought a lot about what he was doing, and what he was saying, and how he was treating me. I owe him big for that.

---

Anonymous says

What did you do with the left shoes after your date?

So, I think teenagers like being able to convey fuck you, I do what I want through their clothes. There are punk scenes for that, and goth, and other things. My way of doing that was just dressing aggressively badly. Mismatched plaids and sports jackets meant for people half my height and twice my width, purchased from goodwill, and basketball shorts mixed with knee high socks and on and on. That was part of my teenage rebellion.

Anyway, I added the shoes in and just wore mismatching shoes to make the outfit worse, both because it was a fashion crime, and because it was a litltle inside joke with my friends who knew the story. I wound up losing them over the years because I would use the left sets as makeshift projectiles.

---

@galapagos-spinch says

I just wanted to compliment you on your story about wrestling a girl in middle school, you're a fantastic writer

Thanks. I have some regrets about that story, but it was fun to write, and it from a craft standpoint, i am proud of it. I appreciate the comment. :)

---

Anonymous says

equality is when young boys aren't allowed physical boundaries i guess

Eesh. We're getting to wrestling asks. Look, when we all signed up for wrestling, we signed up to wrestle girls. It's part of the sport. If your boundary is to not wrestle girls, the way you maintain it is by not signing up for wrestling. The point of my response, which I did not convey clearly enough, was to ask for forgiveness for failure. A middle school boy falling short of the right thing is different from a middle school boy seeking to do the wrong thing, and as a bar, it's...

It's the kind of thing I'd hope people would go, Well, they're shits, but I can't hate them over it. Don't defend us as having done the right thing - we did not. Just, have some grace for the weakness of teens. They're still growing, and if you put too much pressure on them, they'll crumble. And we crumbled.

---

Anonymous says

Hey there! Sorry, not actually a question, just wanted to say I've seen posts of yours reblogged before on occasion and I finally started following you because you're a gifted storyteller and your stories are hilarious, poignant, or both!

Oh! A relief. This is so nice. Thank you. Hopefully you read this. Maybe I should turn anonymous asks off or something going forward if I set myself on doing more of these super-bus replies.

---

Anonymous says

i am crying with laughter at your stories. the way you tell them is perfect, please never stop

I'll try. I had a several month period of no writing after burning out on HFY. Wasn't sure how to make a genre change. I'll probably have more periods of quiet like that, but to be honest, my writing is probably my favorite thing that I do. I like engineering, and I'm pretty good at it, but I love this, and I am very good at it, and in periods where I don't write it feels almost painful.

---

@auronlu says

just sending you some gentle love from an older queer person.

My parents moved to Utah after I went to grad school. I am eternally grateful that my dad turned down that promotion the first time, when I was about to enter high school, because I didn't want to lose my friends and move to Utah and go to school there in the 80s.

So I escaped, but I've seen a little bit of what you had to go through and I've heard from some of my mom's friends that she's made there how hard it is when you don't conform. I'm glad you were able to escape and that you have your own life now.

I bet that girl remembers you and that when these topics come up, she's not as willing to throw people like us under the bus without question.

you did the best you could in a very difficult situation, and by being you, you helped some of the next generation realize the lines they're told about queer people may not be true.

There may have been a closeted or questioning kid in that class, reassured by your example or simple refusal to show prejudice. you don't know what positive impact you had on those kids, but you went in with the best intentions you could and I have a feeling you did more good than you know.

take care and have a good life

( note: my main blog is actuslly @sepdet )

This is actually one of the earliest asks that I didn't want to answer because I didn't want to lose it. For anyone else looking, they're talking about a story I told about teaching primary as a Mormon.

I hope she does. I don't think anyone in the ward ever actually knew I was bi - I kept that very close to my chest. Even after I left. The kids certainly didn't. But they knew that I loved them very much, and they apparently felt strongly that I was a good person. I think the lesson I gave them was that a person can leave the church and still be good. I hope that serves them well.

---

@karmaajr says

UR A FUNNY GUY 🫵

aw yissssss

---

@abisexualfrog says

Hello, I just wanted to say that I really like your stories and the way you write, your style

Sometimes I’m in a bad mood and then I go read a few of your stories -I especially like the ones at your work- and it cheers me up because of how funny it is. (The fridge story? So good)(oh and the water balloon and and and… endless)

Im not super good at compliment because well English isn’t my first language and all that but I figured I could still tell you, can’t hurt.

So yeah I really really enjoy your writing!! It’s so good!

And not just the stories of things that happened to you, the other ones too, they are also very good

This is another one of the ones I kept because I didn't want to lose it.

Thank you for reading my stories. Your english is fantastic. And it is rare to get comments on my old fictional sci-fi pieces - those were kind of my baby's-first-steps. If you read those you are in deep, and I am incredibly touched.

I'd hug you if I could.

---

@rockinhand says

the red bun on those burgers was actually dyed via Beets. i tried it when it was around and it was unremarkable

I know what this is referring to. Surprisingly. But I will leave it be and just enjoy have this remain esoteric bordering on arcane.

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@newkittypoom says

i saw your reblog on that falin fanart and i was like "wait. this is the 28 eggs snake guy?" and i came from the post about your wrasslin days and i saw you answer an ask about being ex-mormon and well. im definitely following the blog for your writing. thanks for sharing these stories!

thanks for commenting! It's flattering to get recognized online. Means my writing voice is distinct. Got a little niche and I'm thrivin' in it.

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Anonymous says

I'm sure someone must have pointed this out by now, but you weren't dating just because she thought you were dating. If that wasn't the kind of relationship you thought you were in, you weren't dating. She was just being presumptuous. You didn't "accidentally date" someone. You can't. Dating is a mutual, consensual thing.

Yeah. Yeah. Phrasing and all.

--

@nbspacegay says

(1)

Hi I read your dating stories they are hilarious. I am spiritually holding hands with you because I too am terrible at dating. I accidentally pterodactyl screamed at my boyfriend when he told me he loved me once. I did also love him. I just panicked, screamed and then quite literally sprinted away. I also did not have the excuse of being in high school because I was in university.

(2)

if you so choose you can publish that last ask, i sent it becuase i thought you and your followers might find it funny

(3)

also sorry for sending you three messages like a lunatic, but also feel free to ignore it

I haven't been ignoring this, it just got buried and then I panicked and it has been crushing me like an ancient marsh, squeezing out all my peaty-bits until all that was left was an ultra-flamable bed of hydrocarbons.

Pterodactyl screaming at your boyfriend is a power move. You should do it more often. I am going to answer more questions that way. I had a customer with a masters in geology ask me why I could not provide their specified sample rate, sample times, and sample counts, and I had to explain to them that you can actually only pick two of those numbers, and the third just happens, and that the numbers they gave me did not work that way. It's like saying "I need to drive 50 miles, and I want to drive at 15 mph for two hours." I'm like, yo, go faster, or drive longer, but you have given me a multiplication problem that does not work. And they kept arguing with me, despite the actuall oscilloscope screen telling them, hey, bozo, that math does not math, and I kept trying to reason with them, when in fact I should have just pterodactyl screamed.

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Anonymous says

When I saw your blog title my first thought was that it's a reference to psalm 137 (it's on my mind since it was just tisha b'av) and was wondering why a nonjew would do that, but then I realized you're a fan of Babylon so it's probably a reference to that. And then I googled it and apparently its also a song. So which one/which combination are you referencing?

Also your blind date story was a fascinating read, it made me laugh. Very impressed by your chutzpah

Oh nvm, saw that you answered the above in another ask, feel free to ignore

No, I totally get it. Mormonism robbed and scrambled the iconography of a lot of religions, but the two it yoinked the most from are the Masons and the Jews. Like, it is my culture now, but I will acknowledge that my culture is what would happen if you asked a 14 year old conman from NY to skin your culture and wear it. I can't imagine how weird it must be to hear us talk.

Glad to have you approval on the blind date story though. That was a nightmare.

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@conkreetmonkey says

Personally I think you should do the egg thing again just for the hell of it. I honestly would because you made it sound fun, but eggs be expensive around these parts

My budget is a liiiiittle bit tight for the next month because my wife is doing occupational therapy, but there's a grocery store nearby that sells quail eggs, and to celebrate her finishing that, I am going to be a dozen and shotgun those bad boys. Hell yeah.

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Anonymous says

bulking must be so easy if you can effortlessly consume 15 raw eggs

No, for two reasons.

The first is that it was not effortless. It was effortful. I had to sweat to get them down. I had to fight them into me. I have a very vivid memory of finishing the eggs, and then leaning over to tie my shoe, and feel the eggs start to actually tip out of me, not even as like, puking, but like emptying water out of a boot. I actually had to sit for a half hour after that for the eggs to actually stay.

The second reason is that eating is easy for me, but gaining muscle mass is not. If I work out like crazy and lift weights, I get very wirey, but I never actually get big. I tried bulking one time, and my muscles stayed the same size while the 20 pounds I gained just went right to my belly and I looked like a grape on a toothpick. Very wild experience. Made my peace with being a skinny nerd.

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Anonymous says

just letting you know that you can sterilise raw eggs by keeping them at 130°F for a few hours, you can do this with a sous vide and eat them with no salmonella concerns

I love tumblr so much but all the people that read a story about some idiot eating 15 raw eggs on an impulse and then went ah, yes, this man clearly owns a sous vide machine and is willing to use it are crazier than I am. Get some realistic expecations of the world. Know your audience. You are setting your bar too high, and will find yourself endlessly disappointed. Stop it. This is why left leaning people are so fucking sad. They read the egg story and think they can solve my life with a sous vide, instead of reading the egg story and realizing that there is nothing in this world that could possibly save my from myself. I am not a stupid person. I am a highly motivated clever person who enjoys doing stupid things. There's no stopping that.

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@brambledboneyards says

Hey OP I just wanted to let you know I was informed when I was younger that farm fresh eggs will not give you salmonella. I would recommend fact checking this, but if it does remain true I hope you can date the cravings once more

This is actually good advice. I know several people who own chickens down here. Bless you.

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@queerdo-mcjewface

Some stores sell pasteurized eggs for recipes that require raw or undercooked eggs

Alas, they only sell egg whites down here, which are flavorless. I want the whole egg experience. The slime, the yolk, the cracking open - I appreciate the advice, but no, it's just not visceral enough.

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@decentmonster says

you'd probably love quail shooters tbh, you can get them at most sushi restaurants and theyre served raw and are really good (also safe to eat)

Also farm-fresh eggs are less likely to have salmonella!!

Two months time, I will eat a dozen raw quail eggs.

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Anonymous says

I want you to know the egg story is literally one of the funniest things I've ever read in my life. I laughed so hard I woke up my husband

I think that was the first little life-short-story thing I posted. Maybe? I'm glad you had fun reading it.

[pinchofhoney]

Can I get a Jack request where reader is like castiel level protective over him? Like it could he during the time he was burning away his soul, or Dean just attacking him and reader getting super protective? Thanks <3

Also thank you sm for being my mutual <333

like real people do

jack kline x reader

word count: 1.6k

warning: the events were made up by me, but in time they probably take place in thirteenth season, platonic relationship

summary: Ever had one of those days when life just can't get any worse?

a/n: thank you so much for your request!! once i read the first four words and found out it was about jack i was so happy! this character makes me feel like hiding him in my jacket pocket and protecting him from the whole world, including my favourite white boy; dean. i hope you will enjoy it!!<33 it's so funny that we clicked so quickly because of ketch hahah

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

What does it mean to have a bad day? For some, it might involve a pointless hunt for a missing sock in the early hours. Others might deem it a disastrous day if they find themselves in a nerve-wracking business meeting, their professional future hanging by a thread, only to be unexpectedly showered in scalding coffee. But let me tell you, what went down in South Dakota, well, that was beyond any bad day anyone's ever had.

Walking down the bunker's cold, metal stairs, your eyes stayed fixed on Sam's broad back. The echoes of two more pairs of footsteps behind you added an unspoken burden to all four of you. The lengthy, six-hour drive from Sioux Falls passed in silence, punctuated only by the occasional growl of Dean's car engine.

In the midst of this oppressive silence, a tangible anxiety filled the atmosphere, much like the sensation of holding a grenade with a fragile safety pin. Each of you knew that speaking the first word out loud could be equivalent to pulling that pin, possibly setting off a surge of emotions and consequences you weren't prepared to deal with at that moment.

As you finally reached the colossal table stationed at the heart of the spacious room, you wearily rested your hands on the chair's backrest, your head drooping in helpless resignation. A deep sigh escaped your lungs, carrying the weight of the day's exhaustion. In the stillness that followed, you could discern Sam's chair scraping against the floor on the opposite side of the table as he settled himself heavily into it and Dean's footsteps resonated down the corridor, indicating his retreat to the kitchen.

Lifting your exhausted head, you gave a quick once-over to your disheveled clothing, recognizing its disorder. It had not only withstood the harsh impact of multiple falls today but was also stained with splotches of blood. Nervously, you ran your hand through your hair, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. Pushing away from the chair, you turned on your heel, scanning the room with a sense of restless anticipation.

You stopped your gaze on the young man by the stairs, who had stayed there the whole time. His face showed a mix of confusion, sympathy, and regret. Your lower lip was gently caught between your teeth as you pondered your next steps. When his gaze met yours, you drew a shallow breath. His appearance wasn't any better than yours, but because he was still Lucifer's son, he appeared more composed than you.

With determination, you approached him step by cautious step until you were standing alongside him. “Jack, are you alright?” you asked, your voice reflecting genuine worry. A quick glance back at Sam, who remained seated at the table, revealed that he was now observing your interaction. You then shifted your attention back to Jack, waiting for his response.

Jack's reply hung in the air like a heavy cloud, his voice a somber murmur that revealed the depth of his guilt. His gaze dropped to his fidgeting hands, fingers twisting in anguish as he confessed, “It's all my fault...”

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy as you witnessed the torment in Jack's eyes. In an attempt to ease the crushing weight of his self-blame, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” you said gently, your voice a soothing balm, “you're not alone in this. None of us expected it to go down like that.”

Sam, the voice of reason, chimed in from his seat at the table. His tone was calm and reassuring as he added, “Jack, we knew it wouldn't be easy. We'll figure this out together.”

Jack looked up at both of you. His eyes were pools of sorrow, and he seemed on the brink of tears, even though he didn’t know what emotions are. “But you guys almost got killed because of me. I couldn't control my powers, and I let them get too close.”

Before you could offer words of reassurance, Dean's voice cut through the room like a sharp blade, “That’s damn right,” he snapped. His anger was palpable, and you could feel the tension rise as he entered with a bottle of beer in his hand. You had been so focused on Jack's emotions that you hadn't noticed Dean approaching.

Your attention shifted to Dean, and it was clear that he had no intentions of concealing his rage. Such suppression was never in his nature. He scrutinized both of you with an intense gaze, his jaw clenched tight, the lines of his face etched with frustration and anger.

Dean proceeded to the table, his movements forceful as he shoved one chair back with a grating screech before taking a seat. The bottle of beer landed on the table with a heavy thud, emphasizing his simmering anger, and the room seemed to shrink with the weight of his emotions. It was a moment where words hung in the balance, and the fragile tension in the air threatened to shatter at any moment.

Jack’s connection to his human emotions was weak, but regret had clear place in his eyes, keenly sensed Dean's anger. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he shifted uncomfortably, his body language a reflection of the confusion within him. In a moment of desperation, he cast a furtive glance in your direction, silently pleading for support, his eyes searching for any sign of comfort.

You, on the other hand, found yourself torn between conflicting emotions. Your heart ached for Jack, understanding the crushing guilt that weighed on him, yet you also knew the importance of not undermining Dean's authority. It was a delicate balancing act that you had become all too familiar with, navigating in these tense moments.

Dean finally broke the oppressive silence, his voice laced with bitterness that hung in the air like a heavy cloud. “You know, Jack, your little power surge not only almost got us killed, but it also cost us Castiel at the very beginning of your existence. You may not remember, but he sacrificed himself to save you.”

Jack's expression remained stoic, but his eyes bore the weight of remorse as he regarded the hunter. “I didn't ask him to,” he replied, his voice carrying the burden of the past.

Dean's face remained unyielding, his anger unwavering in the face of Jack's distress. He leaned forward, his gaze locked on the young Nephilim. “Doesn't change the fact that he's gone because of you.”

The room seemed to shrink with the intensity of the moment, emotions swirling like a storm around the three of you. Jack's regret was a silent force, Dean's anger an unrelenting presence, and you, caught in the middle, felt the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy shroud.

You decided to step in, taking a deep breath to calm yourself as you tried to ease the heavy tension in the room. You spoke gently, "Dean, listen," in a calm and careful way, "Jack didn't want these powers, and he didn't want Cas to save him. None of us knew this would happen."

Dean looked at you, his anger softening just a bit as he heard your caring tone. You had been through a lot with the Winchesters, so you knew how emotions could run high.

But Dean, being stubborn as ever, couldn't let go of his anger towards Jack. He narrowed his eyes at you and replied with bitterness,

“Yeah, well, empathy won't bring Cas back,” he retorted, the pain of loss seeping through every syllable. “Neither will help any of the people who have been harmed today, because of him.”

Jack, still struggling to contain his emotions, lowered his head in acknowledgment. He understood the depth of Dean's anger, and he carried the weight of guilt knowing that nothing he said could bring back the angel who had given his life to protect him.

You exchanged a quick, supportive glance with Jack, a silent understanding passing between you two. Then, you turned your steady attention back to Dean, determined to break through the walls of resentment that had formed around him. “We're all hurting, Dean,” you said, your voice laced with sincerity. “But pointing fingers and blaming Jack won't change the past. We have to move forward together if we're going to face the challenges that lie ahead.”

Dean's jaw clenched, and he took another long, deliberate sip from his beer bottle, as if using the act as a moment of respite from his simmering anger. It was clear that he was still seething, but your words had managed to make some impact, no matter how small.

“Fine,” he grumbled, his anger not completely gone but his tone less harsh. He reluctantly agreed to try and move forward, but he was still stubborn. “But don't think for a second that I'm okay with any of this.”

You nodded, acknowledging Dean's raw emotions. “We know you're not, Dean. But we're a team, and we need to stick together.”

Jack, encouraged by your words and Dean's reluctant acceptance, finally found the courage to speak up again. “I promise, I'll do everything in my power to make amends and prove myself to all of you.”

Dean's gaze remained fixed on his beer bottle, and while he didn't offer immediate forgiveness or approval, he also didn't object further. It was a tenuous truce, fragile as glass, but it was some kind of a start, and everyone knows that the beginnings are always the hardest.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

omg i JUST read your soob drabble “nightmare dressed like a daydream” and the concept of popular reader x outcast soob has just been brainrotting me

like just imagine you guys got into a secret relationship after that project, and your favourite pastime now is to tease him both in school and out of school.

in school you guys act like you don’t know each other, he’s alone again and you’re surrounded by all your friends, but as you pass his desk you slip a note telling him to meet you under the stairs or on the rooftop. the moment he arrives you pull him down and begin to roughly make out with him, unbuckling his belt and he just shyly tells you ‘not at school’, so you just wreck him with your lips, sending him back to class with his cheeks flushed, hair tousled, collar undone and neck full of hickeys. he sits back into his seat in embarrassment, everyone knows what happened but no one says a thing… maybe after a bit you’ll get cocky and ask him to wear a vibrator in class, he pretends to be embarrassed but he still slips it in. when the teacher calls on him you turn on the vibrator and he can barely stutter out a coherent sentence, the teacher lets him off but he glances at you with teary eyes. you do this a couple more times until he’s excusing himself to the bathroom, you follow him out ‘as a good classmate checking on their peers’ and the moment you enter the bathroom hes begging you to help him.

after school you invite him into your house again and you just spoil him with attention, letting him explore around and be curious before bringing him to your room and having your way with him. and he’ll let you because this is the most attention he’s ever had in his entire school life. he’s so pliant and obedient under you, letting you play with every surface of skin you can touch, rubbing his nipples, kissing his inner thighs and finally stroking where he wants to be touched most. hes a total virgin, but a total pervert who has a ton of fantasies and kinks and this is his absolute dream come true. overstimulate him for hours until its dark out, whisper in his ear about how you saw his little glances and stares and how all he wished was for you to pay attention to him like you did with your friends. and he would sob but he couldn’t say a word because all of it was true. after you were both satisfied, you would let him sleep over, cooing at how pretty and sweet he was, and maybe you guys can even go on a secret date during the weekends…

THIS WAS SUPER LENGTHY IM SORRY THANK U FOR LISTENING TO MY RAMBLING HAHSJSKDKE

- 🍓

holy shit, i had to scour back through my soob tag to find the original drabble you're talking about😭, i kinda cringe when i read some of my old work but whatever

BC THIS IS SUCH A GOOD ADD ON-fuck i love shy loser virgin boys who just wanted to be loved and used, he's so cuteeee<3

[casscainmainly]

Fellow Cass fan here. I'm just trying to explain to a friend, who never read Cass's solo series, why she isn't a "dragon lady" or a "problematic Asian stereotype" as they're only familiar with the heavily flanderized, theme-park ride version of the character and her turn to evil. Hypothetically, what would you say?

Hello fellow Cass fan <333. I have an in-depth post about Cass and Asian Stereotypes that you can show your friend, it dives into the most common complaints: Silent Asian, Model Minority, and Hypersexual Asian. However, I'm also gonna do a quick-fire round here in case that's too long.

(This is my opinion as one Asian! Asians are not a monolith, if another Asian who reads Cass contests these points they are valid as well).

Dragon Lady

Dragon ladies are "strong, sexual, deceitful, and domineering". This is not applicable to Cass - in the early issues she's rarely, if ever, portrayed as sexual, and I'd say 99% of her portrayals are not sexual in nature. She's also not deceitful or domineering; she's way more likely to be super blunt, and she rarely takes up leadership positions. Overall not a great description of Cass.

Silent Asian

The biggest criticism of Cass and also a fundamental misunderstanding of her character. Firstly, she's not silent - after issue 4 of her solo series, she steadily learns to speak longer sentences, and is now fairly talkative. Silent Asians are also specifically about side characters. It's about a character who is silent because they're not written in-depth; because Cass is the protagonist of her series, this stereotype cannot apply to her.

Madame Butterfly

The reverse of Dragon Lady, Madame Butterfly is a "subservient stereotype, the woman who would do anything to please the dominant [White] force". Cass subverts this by being fairly disobedient - to name one example, both times Bruce takes Batgirl from her she goes out on her own. Her story is inherently about resisting a White male oppressor, symbolised by her rejecting her father.

Inscrutable Asian

The instrutable Asian is an Asian portrayed as stoic, reserved, and mysterious (related to 'Silent Asian'). @theflashjaygarrick has a wonderful post deconstructing this, but essentially while Cass may be mysterious to her peers, she is not mysterious to the audience. We are privy to her motives, feelings, and thoughts, which subverts this trope entirely.

Model Minority & Mental Health

This falls under Model Minority (which I discuss more in my lengthy post), but a consequence of Model Minority is that Asians often dismiss or hide their mental health issues. Mental health plays a large role in Cass' early stories, and it's rare to have so much focus on an Asian character's internal struggles.

Summary/Conclusion

Asian tropes are harmful because they reduce Asian characters to one-dimensional cutouts, often in service of a White lead. Even though Cass does fall into certain Asian tropes - martial arts Asian, for instance - her story is ultimately about her, and she's a well-rounded character with dreams, flaws, and complex relationships. To be clear, her evil turn and some parts of N52 are actually racist, but this is not representative of her character as a whole. To dismiss Cass entirely because of these racist touch-points is to discard one of the most prominent Asian characters in comics.

To copy/paste my ending from my Cass & Asian Stereotypes post: the reason she means so much to me is because at its core, her story is a story of Asian agency. And that in itself is unstereotypical.

Further reading: How Cass Defies an Asian Stereotype, Sarah Kuhn Interview, Alyssa Wong Interview, Mariko Tamaki Interview

[jils-things]

I would never fall in love again until I found her

I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into"

I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her

I found you

[3.25.23]

ouueeehh we're back to my corny love letters like last time 💜 again absolutely NO pressure reading these, because it WILL get lengthy 💜 this also serves as a personal love letter that i can archive!

ahh, steven st.one. a wild card in my f/o list. i never thought i'd find myself to like him... i've always tried my best to avoid the pretty boy design after i've gotten older which is why i was oddly in denial during my early steven days hehe... the earliest memory i have of him is just me battling him in my ruby emulator back in the 4th grade - but i don't think i actually remembered him too well, i only thought he looked like a silly anime version of the classical composer be.ethoven and tbh, i still like to think he does look like him in the rse style lolll 💜

for the whole, actual story - it was just last year - i was reading the r/s arc, of course. it was one of those days in school where i had nothing much to do and snuck my phone to read manga to pass some time. at some point, my classmate joined to read with me - it was at this moment where steven debuts properly and it caught my classmate by Surprise. she thought he looked very handsome! to which i teased her... strangely enough, this exchange impacted me? maybe it's because someone acknowledged what i was doing and even bothered to briefly read along with me - so in a way steven kinda bookmarked that memory.

so after that exchange, i just kept on reading. everytime he had something to say, i couldn't help but just stare at his face? he looked nice, i guess? he's also very gentle and polite... i kept this thought of mine for quite sometime until i was discussing the manga arc with my p.okespe mutual and he mentioned him. i somewhat confessed he looked nice and that was the biggest mistake i've ever done because what my friend did after was absolutely blow me with art after art of the pretty rock collector and i was STRUGGLING. it ultimately came down to this one cute panel in the o.ras chapter where he was blushing and I wasn't the same person since then 🚶🚶🚶and funnily enough, i told myself I wasn't going to fall for anyone because of the manga and whoopedoo p.okespe!steven my beloved the greatest man ever. i mean i love the game counterpart as well, they're nearly identical - it's just the manga that totally swept me... sighhhh

steven is such a nice character to begin with, he's honestly a very humble and nice champion. he's not showy about his identity and would rather be alone by himself to indulge in what he wants. he is willing to give up a very respectable position in the po.kemon league just to pursue his interests and with that i see a man not after power and fame but a man who just wants to find joy in what he does even if it demotes him. on top of that, he's just a sweet gentleman. he was raised well of course, and you can see it clearly in his acts in the story. i love him very much for that and who wouldn't want those traits?

i was really absolutely embarrassed to be all over this guy at first - it took a whole month for me to actually share to my blog about how i liked steven and took awhile to adjust to that fact that i opened up about it 😭 but the community was very kind and supportive about the pairing and if i'm being honest, i think stevaide made a super lasting impact on my blog recently and it's really so comforting to picture them as a young loving married couple with ruby. it made me feel unashamed with what i can do with my silly ships. i'm still very glad for the endless support for steven and jaide.

soo, yes. happy memoryshipping 💜💚 thank you for making my times of struggle more bearable if not perfect and thank you to everyone who enjoys this ship even if it was just a little bit :]

credits to @/cafekitsune <3

[laura1633]

i need to say this somewhere and i hope you won’t mind if i send this “rant” here. bc this is just a stupid smut pet peeve that i let annoy me so much.

but anyway every time i go to the lestappen tag i get really disheartened bc there is such a imbalance. there is so much bottom charles and omega charles and charles being loved and worshiped and i honestly wouldn’t mind that at all but the number of fics where max gets the same are pretty much nonexistent compared to charles-centric fics like there are bottom max fics but they get drowned out. pretty much all the popular fics that have thousands of kudos and that ppl recommend to everyone are bottom charles. seriously i saw a rec list once where the few bottom max fics had the fact that they are bottom max mentioned in the same manner as content warnings for some other fics. it was super weird but maybe the person who made that didn’t think it would come across like that.

i know there are lots of bottom max fics (i’ve probably read them all lol) and ppl who like both, like you. i’m happy about the ppl who comment on bottom max fics those fics still get a lot of love even when it seems so little in the grand scheme of things. but i’m just annoyed and a bit confused that it’s so disproportionate. probably bc charles is more popular than max and bottom charles has gotten so popular ppl are inclined to it and it's "safe" and gets more love.

then again there’s so much talk about omega max on tumblr and then none of that shows on ao3 weirdly. (except maybe on the maxiel side i literally became a maxiel shipper bc i wanted more omega max lol) some ppl on here who say they’re bottom/omega max “truthers” have like several top max fics on their account and no bottom max fics which literally not that deep everyone should write what they want and what they are inspired to write but not practicing what you preach confuses me a bit not gonna lie haha. i’ve written my own fics which are pretty much premises i want to desperately read but no one has written them (like fine i'll do it myself) and i've gotten a good response but i’m a slow writer so i haven't written everything i want to write. thank you for everything you’ve written laura!

I don't mind at all anon, I have added your second ask too <3 Sorry this ended up being a lengthy reply. I love that we can yap about the bottom or omega Max agenda though 😂

I started writing maybe about two years ago and at the time a lot of the Lestappen stories were definitely bottom Charles and omega Charles. I started writing because a little bit like yourself there was some stuff I wanted to read that didn't exist so I just wrote it myself. At the time I had no clue how to write but I have hopefully improved over the past couple years! I was just desperate for there to be some more soft Max or Max being looked after and cared for. I just think Max doesn't get enough love and there can never be enough fics where it's pointed out just how hot he is!

I also like the idea of sexy, hot alpha Charles and think it's fun to not always see him in that 'babygirl' role if that makes sense. Although I can see why he ends up in that role a lot, he is also very pretty

I used to read a lot of Maxiel for the same reason as yourself, in fact I do still read Maxiel because of that reason and also because there are some very talented writers writing it. (although I also think of Daniel as being quite omega like!)

I definitely agree that there is a lot more bottom and omega Max within the lestappen tag now compared to a couple of year ago.

For me, I like to swap it around. I like to write soft alpha Max and even bottom alpha Max. The main thing for me is that the dynamic works for the story I want to tell. I have started leaning more towards omega Max though because I know that there is plenty of omega Charles out there and there are plenty of people who can write omega Charles much better than I can!!

You are absolutely correct about the comments and kudos thing. Firstly I should say that there are some amazing writers writing some amazing bottom and omega Charles fics that deserve all the love in the world and I am not for one second suggesting that they only have so many responses because of the dynamic but (at least to start with) I found that my omega Charles fics got more kudos than the omega Max ones. That might have just been a coincidence but when I start writing a story I know it will get more attention if I write it with the omega Charles dynamic. I'm not for one second suggesting that that is what people are thinking about btw, it's just a fact I have noticed with my own work. These days I just write what I like and hope some other people like it. If I ranked my fics by kudos they definitely wouldn't be in quality order so I don't worry about that now 😂

Like you have said, everyone should write what they like as it's all for fun. I am just glad there are other people out there reading and writing bottom/omega Max or even just Max getting the love and attention he deserves.

I will read top Max and I enjoy top Max. The only Max fics I don't like are where the writer clearly doesn't like Max and is making him unnecessarily aggressive or just making him the butt of the joke in a mean way. I prefer to read Lestappen when I can tell that the writer likes both of them if that makes sense (obviously people have a favourite but that's different. )

The content warning for the bottom Max fics made me giggle. I don't know what context that was in as I didn't see the post but it definitely made me laugh. Maybe it needs a content warning because its likely to alter your brain chemistry and you'll not be able to see him topping again 😂

I will always write some bottom Charles and some omega Charles because it just works in certain contexts for me but I have felt myself leaning more towards the other dynamic. Hopefully most people don't mind because there are so many Lestappen writers these days so there is definitely plenty of omega Charles to chose from.

I am shocked there is not more Omega Max x Omega Charles though as that seems to fit quite well.

Sorry, I totally rambled there but I am a huge lover of omega and bottom Max and always will be. I am also a huge lover of Max being treated nicely and softly and getting all the attention and affection in the world.