#three step stores ( MEME )

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter One

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn't be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there's a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters: You, Antiques salesman, mother, cute black cat.

Chapter Warnings: Pain in the ass mother, language.

W/C: 1,220

A/N: Soley thought of this idea just for that Spiderman meme.

The bell to the antiques store tinkled as you opened the door. As you stepped in, the proprietor of the store moved away from behind the counter. The place was cluttered, and everything in sight was for sale.

“Hi there, interested in purchasing something today?”

He was a kindly-looking older gent, who reminded you of your pops, and you couldn’t help but smile warmly at him.

“Potentially. Just browsing, for now.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” He enquired as you started to browse.

You shrugged. “Not really.”

He smiled then. “Ah. You won’t know what you’re looking for until it finds you.” He said with a twinkle in his eye.

You chuckled and nodded. Yeah, you could agree with that.

It didn’t take long for you to find something. Your eye had landed on a trifold oval picture frame. And for the price tag, you were tempted. Very tempted.

“Ah a lovely set. Baroque features in the detailing. Could do with a possible restoration, but a proper clean would also suffice.”

You fingered the tag again, it was a hundred dollars.

“Tell ya what. I’ll knock off ten bucks. How does that sound?”

You looked at him then.

“You don’t think I don’t know the look of someone finding an item they can’t walk away from? Darlin’ you got that look. You got it bad.”

It was just a picture frame. A dumb little picture frame, but why did it give you so much joy to look at? You weren’t much of a haggler and it would seem rude to haggle the price after he had already generously knocked off ten percent.

“Alright, you got yourself a deal.”

He shook your hand. “Excellent.”

He picked up the item and very carefully began meandering his way back to the counter with you following him. He set the item down gently and rung up the purchase.

“Such a pretty little find. And it was a shame that it had been hiding in a box, before coming here.”

You gave him a quizzical look and he held up a hand before disappearing into the back for a few moments and coming back with a small wooden box. He placed it on the counter in front of you. Your hands reached out towards it. The wooden box looked plain compared to the delicate and intricate detailing on the frame. It was finished with a dark varnish and what was with the strange script etched into the grain? Was it Elvish, or Sanskrit, or even Latin? You had no idea. A simple clasp locked the box. Easy to use. Either way, now you had a keepsake box also.

“It’s my understanding that the original owner had passed away and his living relatives didn’t want it and, well here it is.”

“Well, it’s their loss.”

“Of course, of course. If they hadn’t, then you never would have found it.”

He took your cash and then handed you the receipt. He bid you a good rest of your day as you lifted the box and the picture frame and made your way out of the store.

*

You placed the final photo in the frame. Slid the locks, and placed the frame on your sideboard, angling it so you could appreciate it all that little bit more. You sighed in contentment as three of your favourite fictional men smiled seemingly at you from beside your TV.

The door knocked and by the light raps you knew who it was. This time, you sighed heavily and muttered “God, give me strength” before going to open the door. You’d only opened it a crack before she started to barge her way in.

“Y/N, honestly, what are you wearing? Pyjama’s during daytime? I don’t know. Go put on some proper clothes.”

You looked down. Now you were annoyed. It was loungewear for God’s sake. Perfectly acceptable.

“Mother, what I’m wearing should be of no concern to you and its just gone five, and it’s a Saturday.”

She sniffed and made her way into your lounge. She tutted at the clutter.

“Don’t you ever tidy up?”

You rolled your eyes and sat down. “What did you come here for? To pick faults or was there an actual reason?”

“Your father—”

“Not my father.” You stated.

Your mother had married her partner not long after your father’s passing and now, she acted as though he had been in your life since birth.

She continued, like you hadn’t interrupted her.

“—and I have been talking. You know that nice young man that started last year, Cole—"

“Wait, you’re not seriously trying to set me up?”

Your mother looked a little put out.

“Well, it can’t hurt to get back out there. Get back on the horse or so to speak.”

You sat there shocked. Then it turned to anger.

“Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed that your one and only daughter is a divorcee!”

“Ashamed, no. Disappointed, yes.”

It was like a punch to the gut and the hurt stabbed at your heart. You’d suspected your mother had opinions on your divorce but to voice her disappointment a year and a half after finalization felt like a kick in the teeth. It left you speechless.

“Is that new? I have to say I don’t think it goes with the room. Who are those men? Are they from your shows? Honestly Y/N. I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”

Your mother had continued to ramble on whilst you were still reeling from her comment. At that moment your all black cat slinked in, jumping up and made her way over to your mother’s lap.

“If you’re not careful, this is your future.” She said nodding to the cat.

You looked at her then.

“I think you should leave, mother.”

She turned her head, facing you. She looked like a goldfish with the way her mouth kept opening and closing. Then her lips pursed together, and she stood, with the cat leaping from her. She made a disgusted sound, discovering the amount of cat hair had malted on her. You handed her a nearby lint brush, and she furiously started scrubbing at the hair on her skirt. She then stood and bid you a good evening and purposefully walked to the door. Your mother didn’t wait, slamming the door on her way out. You scrubbed your hand down your face muttering about her audacity.

*

You plonked yourself on the sofa, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The cat had been fed and was currently God knows where, doing its own thing.

Halfway through Family Feud, a loud crash from what sounded like your kitchen alerted you. Your laugh cut short and Steve Harvey poked fun at a contestant's absurd answer, laughing on the screen. You jumped up, abandoning the snacks and ran to see the destruction, cussing your cat out along the way.

You stormed into the room ready to reem your pesky feline, grabbing a broom, threatening the extinction of treats for the rest of his life. But what you saw had you stopping in your tracks. Words died on your tongue. And what you saw, there was no rhyme or reason to it. In fact, it should have been physically impossible.

Dean Winchester stood in your kitchen, holding a case of pie.

[scekrex]

You know who it is, it's ya boy! 🕺

So. Obviously a crack fic, if anyone is wondering - no, I don't smoke pot, I'm just very stupid with dumb, but creative ideas, about Adam, Lute and the reader having a mission given to them from Sera, we're they have to got to the Earth in their human disguises (Of course Adam is just Adam without the mask and brown eyes, because Alex Brightman, fuck yeah) to do some business with some of the governments. What they didn't think of is the fact that when they got their human disguises, they also came with human traits, like being able to get absolutely hammered. Like for angels it would take a lot of alcohol (I'm looking at you Castiel when you drank a whole ass liquor store) to get drunk, but humans have a weaker immune system when it comes to percentages. So Adam the drunkest of them all getting the amazing idea of stealing a shopping cart, a little less drunk reader agreeing and them running off before Lute could stop them, Adam in the cart, reader pushing. In the end they accidentally drove off the sidewalk and launched themselves into the damn brook. Lute panicked before they emerged, laughing their asses off, Adam just started to glide his hands over his clothes as if he wanted to hand wash them. Here cue the meme:

-I'M WASHING ME AND MY CLOTHES

-He's drunk as fuck

-Biiitch, I'm washing me and my clothes 😌

With the "I'm washing me and my clothes" being Adam, "He's drunk as fuck" being Lute and the reader just floating in the water next to Adam wondering what the hell he was doing before catching the vibe and doing the same. Now imagine Sera just wanting to check on them and their progress through that orb in Heaven like during "You didn't know" 😂 Miss girl would face plam so hard her big ass lashes would fly off her face 😂😂😂

Bro. Bro I adore you and I adore your fucking crack prompts, they're my new favorite thing to write. So here ya go babes

Drunk 'n' Nasty

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, use of alcohol, yet another crack fic

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Lute grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from the bar entrance, Adam had already been grabbed by his shirt to keep him from entering the building. “No, Sera explicitly said that we need to get this over with as fast as possible,” the lieutenant spoke in a firm voice as she dragged both you and your husband away from the pub, “So we will finish the job and then straight up head back to heaven.”

You pounded at her, “You’re no fun, c’mon Lute just let us have one drink, in and out in no time.” But the exorcist shook her head and stood her ground, “No. One drink will lead to two and two drinks will lead to you and Adam getting completely wasted.” Adam wiggled out of her grip and slapped the hand she had wrapped around your wrist. Yes, Sera had given you orders, but where was the fun in having human disguises if you weren't able to enjoy the night on earth?

“Oh fucking quit it, danger tits, we all know it will end like that either way,” Adam groaned and rolled his eyes, “Loosen up, bitch.” Lute side eyed the first man critically but eventually gave in with a sigh. She wordlessly stepped aside so the two of you were able to enter the crowded bar and Adam dragged you inside before Lute was able to change her mind again. “Let’s fucking go,” the brunette cheered and sat down at the counter. He patted his thigh as his now brown eyes caught yours, “C’mere babes.” That he didn't need to tell you twice, you closed the small gab that was left between the two of you and sat down on his thigh as the first man ordered two shots of whiskey for the both of you, he knew Lute wouldn't drink, she appeared to be quite tense ever since the three of you had arrived on earth.

Once the drinks were put down in front of you, you immediately reached for the tiny shot glass and downed it in one go by tilting your head back, Adam's eyes were locked on your throat as he was able to see how you swallowed the liquid, a nasty grin appeared on his lips as he leaned in a little closer to you, “Fuck, how often will I get that view tonight?” “Depends,” you grinned back at him, the pleasant yet unusual burn of alcohol made you shiver slightly, “How often do ya wanna see it, pretty boy?” Adam leaned in even closer until his lips brushed softly against your ear and his hot breath hit your face, “I don't think I will ever get enough of it.” And with that he downed his own shot just to slam the empty glass on the counter and ask the bartender for another round.

“Sir,” Lute had managed to get through the crowd somehow and was now standing behind you, “That was your one shot, we'll leave now.” Adam looked at you, it was so weird to see the first man with dark brown eyes instead of bright golden ones, but it was something you could get used to, they seemed honest, not that his golden eyes were serving you lies but the brown orbs just felt different, more personal. “Lute, do us a fucking favor and find some dude who will pull that massive fucking stick outta your ass so we can enjoy ourselves for a little while,” your husband shared his opinion on Lute's behavior towards the both of you, then he turned around again to focus on the drinks on the counter. The first man raised his glass, you did the same and in union you purred, “To us.” Another shot was swallowed and you slowly felt your cheeks heating up because of the alcohol. Oh how you had missed the burning liquor.

“I will regret this,” Lute grumbled as the exorcist sat down on the stool next to you. Your eyes beamed at her and you were quick to order three cocktails, visibly happy that she had decided to join you. “Just because I'm sitting down doesn't mean I will drink with you, it's enough of a burden that you two are,” she hissed and eyed the neon pink drink suspiciously as it was placed in front of her. “Don’t be such a princess, it's just one drink,” Adam commented and pushed the pretty looking drink a little closer to Lute. She however, simply passed it to some chick that was passing by. And that was the moment you chose to ignore the woman for the rest of the evening. If she was fine with staying sober and doing as stupid fucking Sera said, so be it, you and Adam however had other plans.

It didn't really take long for the alcohol to actually punch you two in the face though, heaven offered no such things as alcohol, weed, crack or nicotine so the tolerance bar for Adam and you was basically on the floor. And that was probably part of the reason why the two of you had one hell of a blast running away from Lute.

And then Adam spotted the supermarket that wasn't too far away from the pub so he made quick work of picking you up bridal style and then he was on his way to investigate whatever it was that was going on there. “What now, big guy, are we taking off together? Away from stick-in-the-ass-Lute and go-fuck-yourself-Sera?” you chuckled as the brunette continued to carry you over to the empty parking lot. “Damn fucking right, babes,” Adam agreed. The taller man let you down once your destination was reached and he immediately saw something new he wanted to investigate.

The fucking shopping carts.

So you tagged along, mainly to make sure Adam wouldn't hurt himself but also because you were curious too. You weren't quite sure how, but somehow Adam had managed to disconnect the metal chain from the cart, the first man was pulling it away from the others and as soon as it stopped moving, he climbed in it to sit down, “What are you waiting for, bitch, fucking push me!” Adam pointed to the street.

Lute had just managed to catch up to you two drunken asses as you rushed past her. You pushed the shopping cart as fast as physically possible, “Fuck yeah,” Adam yelled and threw his fists in the air, that man was having the time of his life - or well, existence. Either way it was fun, you two were having fun.

Lute on the other hand regretted every single decision that had led her to his exact moment, if she could she would punch her past self for even agreeing to coming with you. Fuck what had she been thinking, that you two would take this serious for once? Yeah, dead fucking wrong.

It was all fun and games until you stumbled over your own feet, lost control of the cart and pushed it right into the brook that was besides the sidewalk you had been running on. Your alcohol clouded brain didn't even think of letting go and therefore you fell with Adam. Instead of being bummed about it, you thought of this as an upgrade though, because now you were floating on water.

“Adam look,” you called for your husband, “I’m floating.” Adam turned around in order to see what you were doing and chuckled at the sight. “‘m washin’ me ‘n’ my clothes,” the brunette explained what he was doing as he slid his hands all across his body, crumbling up his very wet clothes.

Lute had finally managed to fully catch up to you and just watched you with annoyance. “He’s drunk as fuck,” she grumbled, clearly talking to you but you simply shook your head violently, you somehow managed to get over to where Adam was washing himself and his clothes and helped him by sliding your hands all over his body too, “Bitch, we're washing him and his clothes.”

The brunette turned around to face you and poked your chest, “If you handsome bitch keep touching me like that I might just fuck you right here, right now,” the words he spoke were a little hard to understand die to the alcohol he had been drinking earlier. But hard to understand didn't mean impossible to understand, because as soon as your brain had processed the words your husband had spoken you pressed your entire body against his, your wet clothes clinging onto each other.

“Oh Lord have mercy,” Lute prayed as she covered her ears and turned around so that she wouldn't have to watch.

“Yeah? What's stopping you, big guy?” you were up for the challenge, if he wanted to fuck you right there, then he should get to do that. At least that's how you saw it.

Sera had a gut feeling that told her to check on the group and so she did. But what she saw was something she surely hadn't expected. Lute was standing on the sidewalk, the woman was still covering her ears and had squeezed her eyes shut in order to tune out what was happening behind her back.

Because Adam and you were standing in a brook, both fully naked. Sera immediately regretted what she had just done, she wanted to unsee what her eyes had been able to see. She stopped the transmission in an instant. That had simply been too much for her nerves, she had also made the decision to never address what was currently going down on earth.

Spoiler: Adam was going down on you.

[angeliqueiguess]

Late-Night Mischief (l.dh)

006. Dream Team

w.count: 945

"Midnight Karaoke" Haechan leaned casually against the counter, flashing that mischievous grin Y/n had come to associate with his most absurd ideas—the kind that somehow always dragged her along for the ride, whether she liked it or not.

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” he replied, flipping his phone around to show her a hastily designed flyer.

Neon-pink text announced: “Midnight Karaoke: Sing Your Heart Out! (And Eat While You’re At It)” against a blurry stock photo of a microphone.

Y/n stared at it, unimpressed.

“This… is supposed to be marketing? This screams ‘graphic design is my passion’ energy.”

“Hey! It’s a concept,” Haechan defended, waving his phone like it was a masterpiece. “Picture it: aisles packed with people holding snacks, someone absolutely butchering Adele in the corner. It’s genius.”

“It’s ridiculous,” she shot back, arms still crossed.

“And brilliant,” he countered without missing a beat.

Before she could launch another protest, the store door chimed, and Mr. Kim strolled in, clipboard tucked under his arm as always. Haechan’s face lit up like he’d just found his next accomplice.

“Mr. Kim! Just the person I wanted to see.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in panic. “No. No, don’t you dare—”

But it was too late. Haechan had already darted around the counter to intercept their boss, brandishing his phone like it held the key to salvation.

“Check this out,” he began, thrusting the phone into Mr. Kim’s hands. “What do you think about a midnight karaoke event? We bring in the night owls, sell a ton of snacks, and boost sales. Music and munchies—it’s the perfect combo.”

Mr. Kim squinted at the screen, then glanced between Haechan and Y/n. “Karaoke? In the store?”

“Yes!” Haechan beamed. “Who doesn’t love karaoke? And we’re open 24/7. It’s perfect.”

Y/n stepped in, her voice firm. “And loud, chaotic, and absolutely not what people expect from a convenience store.”

Mr. Kim tapped his clipboard, clearly mulling it over. “Sales have been low lately… maybe it’s time to try something different.”

Y/n’s jaw dropped. “You’re actually considering this?”

“Why not?” Mr. Kim shrugged. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll never do it again. But if it does…”

Haechan pumped his fist in victory. “You won’t regret this, boss!”

Y/n groaned, glaring at Haechan. “Oh, I will definitely regret this.”

---

The next day, Haechan showed up with reinforcements—three guys in tow, looking like they’d been recruited for a last-minute heist.

“Meet the Dream Team,” Haechan announced with a dramatic flair. ''It's not complete tho''

The first was Mark, a quiet guy with glasses who gave an awkward little wave. “Uh, hi. Haechan said there’d be snacks…?”

Y/n shot Haechan an unimpressed look. “You bribed people with snacks?”

''Snacks and friendship” Haechan corrected. “Mark here is our music dude. He’ll handle all the techy stuff—microphones, speakers, you name it.”

Mark adjusted his glasses. “I’ve got a couple of portable amps and a mic set at home. Should be enough for this space.”

Next was Jisung, a tall, lanky kid who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. “I’m only here because Haechan wouldn’t stop texting me,” he muttered.

Haechan clapped a hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “This guy’s our social media strategist. He’s gonna make us go viral.”

“I run a meme page,” Jisung deadpanned. “I’m not a miracle worker.”

Last was Jaemin, a guy with a grin so wide it was borderline contagious. He plopped a box of string lights onto the counter. “Haechan said you needed someone to ‘set the vibe.’ That’s me.”

Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose, already regretting every decision that had led to this moment. “This is a circus.”

“No,” Haechan corrected, throwing an arm around Jaemin and Mark. “This is teamwork.”

---

The following nights were a whirlwind of preparation. Despite her protests, Y/n had no choice but to go along with it—Mr. Kim had made it clear that the event was happening, whether she liked it or not.

Mark set up the equipment in the corner, testing levels until Haechan’s voice blasted through the speakers. “Testing, testing. Y/n, you’re beautiful but terrifying. Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” she replied dryly, stacking snack displays nearby.

Jaemin worked his magic, stringing lights across the windows and dragging out old chairs and beanbags from storage to create a cozy, lounge-like vibe.

Jisung quietly filmed the transformation, editing quick, catchy clips to post online with captions like: “Your new favorite midnight spot—coming soon!”

Even Y/n had to admit the energy was infectious. Regular customers started asking about the event, and the store’s social media account gained more followers in one week than it had in the past year.

---

The night before the event, Y/n stood behind the counter, watching Haechan fuss over the microphone stand for what felt like the hundredth time.

“You’re really going all out for this, huh?” she asked, unable to hide the curiosity in her tone.

“Of course,” he said without looking up. “This place means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

The question caught her off guard. “Well… yeah, I guess it does.”

“Then it means a lot to me too,” he said simply. Then, with a smirk, he added, “Also, if this store shuts down, where am I supposed to get my midnight snacks?”

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile crept onto her face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he quipped, shooting her a wink.

Y/n didn’t respond, but as she looked around at the transformed store—now glowing softly with string lights and humming with a newfound excitement—she felt a flicker of something unexpected: hope.

Haechan’s crazy idea wasn’t so bad after all.

prev/next masterlist

angie’s note: jisung running a meme page gives me life (i have the theory that he runs one)

taglist: @thegracerammy @yewshi @haefelt @pjsteroid @kodasity (let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter)

[squarerooto]

the hazers give me the vibe of their entrance into a room would be all mysterious and eerie and then three steps in they trip and eat shit. they have never been spotted outside of the league except once at a grocery store getting milk and another at a subway waiting for the employee to fix one of their sandwiches for the fourth time a la that one meme. i think they are losers (affectionate)

[tabsters]

The Twelve Days of Zodiacs - Day 5

"On the fifth day of Christmas, my Zodiacs gave to me, Five ugly sweaters, Four wrapped presents, Three snowmen, Two bread rolls, And a snowball fight under a tree."

it should be noted that this story is in a modern AU, aka an AU where no magic exists. everyone is just normal and untraumatized! the modern AU names for the characters are listed below:

TZE! Gemini: Hannah TZE! Scorpio: Sera TZE! Aries: Alex TZE! Leo: Leo TZE! Lacerta: Lacy (mentioned) TZE! Delphinus: Delphi (mentioned) TZE! Sagittarius: Will (mentioned)

tagging @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @hyperfixation-tangentopia @maiawhimsicalt @sweet-star-cookie

next chapter is here!

“Thank you for taking me to the mall!” Cassie said as Ciara’s dad drove into the parking lot. The man smiled as he parked the car, stepping out and pulling Cassie’s door open for her.

“It’s no problem at all.” He was a short man, with dark red hair and a sprinkling of freckles across his face. Ciara said that he worked as a daycare teacher, and Cassie could definitely see it. “We’re very glad that Ciara’s making some more friends.”

Sera, who was coming along on their mall trip, stepped out of the car as well, holding Ciara’s bag for her. “Such a gentleman,” Ciara quipped.

“Mm.” Sera only nodded, handing her bag back. “Cassie, you mentioned that you needed to do some Christmas shopping?”

“Oh! Yes!” Cassie rummaged through her bag, making sure that she had her possessions. “I have my own money, though, you don’t need to worry.”

“What do you do?” Ciara’s dad—Mr. Alejandro—asked as they walked into the mall. Ciara let out a loud sigh of relief as they stepped into the heated rooms. “Dog walking? Pet sitting?”

“Better to ask what Cassie doesn’t do,” Ciara laughed, and Cassie blushed. “Anyway, where to first?”

“I saw a really stupid ugly sweater in one of the stores’ websites,” Sera began to say, before getting cut off by one of Ciara’s long, drawn-out groans.

“It’s a family tradition,” Mr. Alejandro said at Cassie’s questioning look. “We dress up in ugly sweaters and take pictures to use for our Christmas cards.”

“I love it,” Sera said cheerfully, the most emotion Cassie had seen from him. “You all look so stupid and you all look so funny.”

“Lacy and Delphi certainly seem to think so,” Ciara grumbled. “Did you know that your friends made last year’s picture of me a meme?”

Sera chuckled, pulling out his phone to show Cassie the aforementioned meme. “Yeah, I was the one who sent them the photo.”

Cassie looked at the picture on Sera’s phone. It was zoomed in on Ciara, who was sitting like a cat, her arms attempting to cover up her ugly sweater. She was pouting, her lower lip stuck out.

“You look cute!” Cassie said, giggling as Ciara recreated the exact same pout in real time. “No, really!”

“Just show us the stupid sweaters,” Ciara sighed, swatting at Sera’s arm.

-

After an hour of walking around in confused circles (and after getting sidetracked and spending a solid half hour in Barnes and Noble), they finally found the store Sera was talking about.

“They opened very recently,” Sera attempted to defend himself. “They’re a small business.”

“Just admit you got lost.” Ciara pointed at one of the mannequins, who was in fact wearing an ugly sweater. It had a giant reindeer with lights strewn all over its antlers. “That one would be good for you, my dearest brother.”

“I already have my sweater,” Sera said proudly. “It has Santa falling into a snowdrift. My boyfriend gave it to me as an early present.”

“Good God, not again,” Ciara said. Mr. Alejandro patted her on the shoulder, possibly offering his condolences to his daughter. "You and Hannah, always talking about great your partners are."

"If Alex ever ends up confessing to Will, you're doomed, Ciara." Sera stuck his tongue out, walking into the store.

"I don't think I could take it if all three of your siblings started dating," Mr. Alejandro stage-whispered out of the side of his mouth. Both Cassie and Ciara laughed.

They walked through the store, trying to figure out which sweaters would look good for each of Ciara's family members. Ciara vehemently denied the idea that any sweater would look good on her.

"It's for the bit, Ciara," Cassie said, holding up a sweater that had Santa stuck in the chimney of a house, his legs flailing in the air. "Commit to the bit!"

"I've been committing to the bit since I was seven," Ciara complained loudly. She nudged her father in the side, startling him. "This guy and Mom thought it was a good idea as a family bonding activity when I first got adopted. And then we just never stopped."

"We were doing it before we got you!" Mr. Alejandro protested. He scrolled through his phone, showing Cassie a picture of him and a woman. Both were dressed in ugly sweaters, and the photo dated back to ten years ago. "Your mother and I have been doing it ever since we started dating!"

"That's your mother?!" Cassie asked, mouth falling open in shock. The woman was ethereally beautiful, with her black hair falling over one shoulder in one long plait. Her dark skin was dusted with gold glitter around her cheeks, and her smile was infectious. She somehow made the ugly sweater look like high fashion. "Is she a model?"

"Real estate agent." Ciara tapped her mother's face. "She's the breadwinner of this family. Dad's the trophy husband."

"And I'm perfectly happy being your mother's trophy husband!"

"SHIT!" Sera came rushing back towards them, a panicked look on his face. "Guys, hide me!"

He then proceeded to duck behind all three of them. This was a mostly unsuccessful task, as he was tall and lanky, and could not be easily hidden.

"What are you hiding from?" Cassie asked the man, who was now trying to see if he could make a mad dash towards the exit. She looked around. The store seemed devoid of any imminent danger.

"Ah, shit," Ciara said. "It's his ex."

"Which one?" Mr. Alejandro asked.

"How many does he have?" Cassie asked, bewildered.

Ciara actually began counting them out on her fingers. "There was the guy who was really into Call of Duty, the genuinely shitty one, the really pretty blind girl, the girl that helps out at the bookshop on the corner of—"

"It's Leo," Sera finally hissed out.

"Ah." Mr. Alejandro nodded in understanding. "But I thought you two were on decent terms?"

"Then he dated Hannah, and now we're not on decent terms!" Sera whisper-shouted. "I may or may not have given him a failed shovel talk."

"He dated you and your sister?" Cassie asked, getting more confused by the second.

"He dated Sera, Hannah, and Alex, but I think that last one was a dare." Ciara sighed, rubbing her temple. "Or a result of spin the bottle. I forgot."

"Who cares—he's here, he's in my vicinity, can we please get out—"

"Sera!" A loud voice said before Sera could finish. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

The speaker was a tall—taller than Sera, surprisingly—man with tanned skin and bleached blonde hair. He was wearing a golden fur coat, the fur looking remarkably like lion fur. He flicked his sunglasses up to his forehead, revealing golden contacts. A sun necklace jangled around his neck.

"Hi, Ciara," Leo said, holding up his hand for a high-five. Ciara had to jump up to slap his hand. "Mr. Ramirez. And...who's this?"

"This is my friend," Ciara said, gesturing to Cassie. "Cassie, this is...uh, well, he used to be the head of the theater club in middle school."

"I'm her mentor!" Leo said cheerfully, patting Ciara on the head. "What are y'all shopping for?"

"Ah, well, we were looking for ugly sweaters, for our family tradition," Mr. Alejandro said, playing mediator. He cast a wary glance to his son, who was trying to sneak his way out of the store. "But I believe we're just about finished."

"I can help!" Leo punctuated his words with a couple of pats to Ciara's head. "Sera knows that I have an excellent taste in fashion.

All of them looked towards Sera, waiting for his judgment. The boy sighed, trudging over to join the group.

"I don't get why you needed a theater club. There was already a theater class." Sera flicked Leo on the shoulder. Leo just smiled. Cassie distantly thought that they didn't look like they were on such bad terms.

"It was for theater enthusiasts like me and your sister!" Leo walked leisurely through the store, pulling sweaters seemingly at random off the shelves and depositing them in Ciara's arms. "Those that appreciate the art of acting."

"I'm in theater!" Cassie piped up. "Tech theater, though. Actors have too many lines to memorize."

"And without techies like you, we wouldn't be able to put on such a good show," Leo said, patting Cassie on the shoulder. "Theater is a collaborative art form!"

Sera sighed some more, probably at the fact that his ex was swooping in and stealing his spotlight. 

They found four good sweaters for the other members of their family: a green sweater with a 3-D Christmas tree for Ciara's mom, a red sweater with an enormous Rudolph on it for Ciara's dad, a darker red sweater that said "ON THE NAUGHTY LIST" for Alex, and a white sweater with the words "ELVES MUST STOP CRYING BEFORE RETURNING TO WORK" for Hannah.

"Ciara should wear this one!" Leo held up a red sweater with three cats on it, under the words 'Have a Meow-y Christmas!'. Leo held the sweater up to Ciara, who scowled.

"No, this one," Sera said, pulling a blue sweater with a pixelated Mario out of the pile. "She likes Mario more than she likes cats. Right, Ciara?"

Ciara looked between the two boys, seemingly unsure on whose opinion she should go with. She glanced back at Cassie with an expression that seemed to say 'HELP'. 

Admittedly, it seemed like the two boys were having a silent contest over which one of them Ciara liked better. Cassie was inclined to be on Sera's side, because something about Leo seemed a bit...off. She wasn't quite sure what it was. 

"I think the Mario one looks nice!" Cassie said, stepping in between the two. "Maybe you can give the cat one to someone else."

Leo made a sound of faux disappointment, before putting his sweater back into the box. "Alright, alright. I see I'm outnumbered."

"Ha!" Sera said in triumph, pumping his fist into the air. "I win. Let's go to check out."

Ciara groaned some more, shoving the pile of sweaters into her father's hands. Leo raised his hands in surrender before ruffling Ciara's hair and walking away.

"See you around, Ciara," He said, smiling at her. He looked towards Cassie. "And nice meeting you, Cassie." 

Sera crossed his arms behind his back, looking towards Cassie as well.

His eyes said what he could not: Thank you.

check out @sweet-star-cookie's starglass zodiac lore if you liked this!! questions about my lore are greatly appreciated!!

[galaxythixf]

@starjynx said: ❝ I didn’t mean to break his nose. His nose was just in the middle of where I was punching. ❞ ( shinreko ) Just send me memes idk what this is from || Accepting

"Is violence ever your second or third option?" There's a level of disappointment that should carry in his tone but it's nowhere to be found behind the usual level of sass he'll never abandon. Instead there's something … else, in its place. Calling her to come and drive him home from work had become somewhat of a routine when his hours were as awkward as watching moonlight light the streets better than the flickering of the convenience store's busted light or the street lamps that were supposed to function well enough to alert him when creeps were close enough to threaten him. It's a miracle that she came when she did and this was more or less his way of verbally thanking her but … his appreciation swells within the depths of his chest in a way he embarrassingly understands but can't admit. "This might bruise, hang on I'll get some ice from the store." It gives him a minute to breathe while he's trying to arrange his thoughts. Hands make quick work of a baggie of ice to use and the coolness helps the red on his cheeks simmer down for a moment, foolishly thinking it to be through but the moment he steps back outside he's reminded of many things all at once: She's reckless, that was so ridiculously stupid, and unfortunately he loved every part of it.

Hands reach for hers where he plops the makeshift bag of ice into for her to hold, far more concerned with how his lips catch hers in a kiss his body responds to with butterflies. Shin would call himself a romantic (never aloud, mind you) and something this heroic came straight from the movies he's seen a thousand times. Even when he scolds her for it this kind of thank you is never far behind, because his realism can't outshine the fantasies he craves. It would have been hard for him, years ago, to believe that someone this different from him would take care of the fragile pieces of himself so effortlessly but the way she reacts for him, the way she holds him—looks at him, tells him she could do it like it's breathing.

Breathing—his breath is caught in his throat, but she could take it for all he cared. This is, for lack of a better word, poetic. From the moonlight hitting her face to the way his fingers play with the edges of her jacket while he can't even pretend to be coy about his intentions when the world fades to the background and his nibbling on her bottom lip. There's a breeze that reminds him they're far from home and the same breeze threatens a chill, finally enough to break away from her lips but not from her. Blue eyes are stuck on those lips longer than they should be and he decides he could kiss them swollen but won't for the sake of saving his dignity in a public place, even if it was three in the morning. "We should get out of here, it's freezing."

[tokenlauncher]

A Comprehensive Guide to Solana : How to Buy Meme Tokens & Using Solana Meme Coin Maker

Introduction

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Investing in Solana Meme Coins

Research and Due Diligence

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Stay Informed

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[goddesspharo]

Hangman/Phoenix, Fast and the Furious AU, please

[hit me up with a prompt!]

(I'm going to do your other one too because I absolutely CANNOT resist that, but an excuse to watch the "assembling a team" sequence in Fast 5 again? Superhero movies COULD NEVER.) Once again, I am ungovernable and cannot follow the rules of this prompt meme to write only three sentences.

searching through thrift store jungles

Top Gun: Maverick, Hangman/Phoenix

"What would I do if I didn't have some idiot stalking me across Europe?" It's bad enough that they've landed in a place that is struggling to hold onto their two-star rating, but Natasha draws the line at being trapped in a hotel room with Jake Seresin when they can barely get through small talk without accidentally stepping on a conversational land mine.

[sterekpromptmeme]

Written for the prompt:

Stiles is on a date with a girl he's been seeing for a while. Derek approaches and she starts just blatantly flirting/being catty with Derek who plays along for a while, all smiles and charm. Stiles is furious and humiliated, but then, Derek goes past her and leans in for an extremely dirty kiss with Stiles. Derek pulls back, and tells him he deserves better.

Trading Up (1882 words) by whimsicalmeerkat Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Original Female Character, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Meet-Cute, First Kiss, Getting Together, Smooth Derek Hale, Noodle Incidents, Alive Hale Family Summary: Stiles is turning away from the stationery store he and his (maybe) girlfriend have been looking in to follow her to the next window when she softly says “Daaaamn” and steps three feet to the side, dropping his hand in the process. Confused, he looks over and follows her eyes to a man she’s staring at with a look on her face she’s definitely never directed at Stiles. ~ Stiles has to watch his date flirting with the most handsome man he’s ever seen. The story ends differently than he expects.

Read Here!

It's our first prompt fill! Go and give it a read and show the author some love.

If you have a prompt you would love to see written, or you feel like seeing if someone else's request is something you would like to write, go and check out the Sterek Prompt Meme! There are already lots of prompts up for grabs, and we're always accepting more 💖

Visit the Sterek Prompt Meme!

[icantthinkwell]

Part 2 of that Shinichiro x reader thingy I did!

I had an idea of it and wanted to put it out there. It's pretty short. But it's sweet.

Plus another Shinichiro meme

^^^^

Shinichiro waited for days, keeping his eyes on the door and running towards it every time someone came in. Only for it to not be (y/n).

He had prepared a confession plus an apology for being so oblivious.

But it's been three days and they haven't come back. Did he mess up that badly?

Stepping out and locking up the shop, Shinichiro makes his way to a nearby convenience store for lunch.

He stops so quickly he almost trips over his feet when he sees (y/n) standing behind the store's counter.

Running into the store, they start to greet him but he cuts them off immediately.

- I'M SORRY I WAS SO OBLIVIOUS I REALLY LIKE YOU TOO PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!

They stand there shocked, face turning red.

- ... I don't know what to say. I did think you didn't like me back. But I also know you're oblivious... for a good reason.

Sighing in relief, there's only one question left.

- Why didn't you come back?

- Well... I know your siblings. The couple times I've met them they've been a lot. And I know after seeing the cake, they'd be, you know, a lot.

They weren't wrong. Emma had been at the shop more often because of it. Mikey and Baji had also been there more often too. Mainly because they were hoping for more sweets.

- Haha, you're not wrong! It's not their fault for being excited though.

- I guess so! But now I'll have to get used to them. Since we'll be around each other a lot more now.

They offer their hand to him. Shinichiro gently took it.

- I'm still on the job though. And you better be happy no one was in here when you ran in yelling.

It's his turn for his face to be red.

- Let's get some dinner when I'm off.

- Y-yeah. That sounds good. I'll pick you up then!

[b4rren]

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

meme. @birdrule

big puzzle guy!

don't know if walking technically counts as a hobby but i think it counts for him. big walker. feeling bad? he'll take a walk. feeling good? take a walk. bored? take a walk. need to clear your head? take a walk. easily hits like 15-20k steps a day. one of his first purchases after coming back was a little pedometer to clip to his pants.

and then pressing flowers. he had a collection previously that he's pretty sad to have lost, but he's started a new one now: thrift store books stacked on the wall in his living room and most of them have a bunch of different flower pieces in-between the pages.

[vineheartvariety]

Three years

Three years is a long time for anything.

This year alone has put me through so much that many things got lost and forgotten, including this post being late by a day. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to find myself this year, get my act together and finally feel like I had everything under control. But alas, here we are, a year later and I still have yet to take the first step.

Yesterday a friend wished me a happy death-iversairy, and I went to find them a GIF to try and show them how much I had appreciated the gesture. Afterall, we both loved the channel to bits and still love talking about it when we remember, so I wanted to return the wish with more than just a message or meme. But going through the GIFs (primarily clips from those videos), I realized just how much I had forgotten. How much I had lost. All in the span of three years. How could something so pivotal, so life changing, so motivating, have completely escaped my memory? How, after all those videos pointing out the importance of spending the time you had wisely, had I left time eat away at me? How had I let go of so many goals and dreams?

As this calendar year comes barreling to an end before my eyes, I find myself not feeling much of anything at all. On the one hand, I haven't made much progress actually putting in work into starting my channel. On the other hand, I have kept up a few of the lessons I learned thanks to the channel. I support all the creators I love in all their endeavors. I engage with the communities beyond just liking videos when I want to. And I stay true to my interests and spend my time how I want to -- when not dictated by school, at least.

As for updates on my channel: I have recorded more footage for my channel! Now it's a matter of editing it all. I also have better hardware so I can run different games and store my video footage easier, as well as record better voiceovers. When this will all come into fruition? Still not sure. But I haven't given up. I will do this. Because I want to. Recording videos for my channel has been fun, and I want to do more! It just all comes back to time.

So, now what. Well, last year I encourage everyone to pursue their dreams, take that one leap, take chances. I still do believe that you absolutely should. This year I continued to have moments where I took chances and have been grateful for them, regardless of the clouds of responsibilities that hang over me. I wish for you, dear reader, to have the same, if you can. We only have one life to live, so take the leap and see where you land, 'cause it might very well surprise you. I, as many others, will continue to carry the memories of the channel in my mind, even if specifics slip away. But the spirit lives on.

So, my friends, we stand here, three years later. Memento vivere. Una vita.

[exvangelicalrage]

Hell Wasn’t The Problem

4/21/23

All this talk about hell reminds me of the Oprah meme. I made a christian version for you:

christians are obsessed with hell, though I'm pleased to say, my brother doesn't believe in it despite identifying as christian. So that's a good thing.

Anyway, 5-year-old me, I stated semi-incorrectly in my previous post, was afraid of hell. But actually, that wasn't it. What I was afraid of was separation from my mom.

That's a pretty lizard brain thing, I think. 

Here's how it worked: my mom was sick. She'd been sick my whole life. Almost died during childbirth, in fact (I almost died too!), as a result of her condition. 

Growing up, I always knew she could die at any moment. My parents were christian though, and so we believed that if she did die, it would suck, but it'd be fine. Why would it be fine, you ask? 

Obviously, because she was going to heaven. And all I had to do was make sure I got there eventually too, and we could live out eternity as one big happy family (assuming my dad and brothers also made it). 

Then I learned that "bad behavior" = sin and sin prevents you from getting into heaven. The only way to fix it was to either never fuck up, or to repent of all your mistakes. Of course, they added, everyone is a sinner. That means everyone needs to repent.

So right from the get-go, you started out on the wrong side of the fence.

Enter my first existential crisis (as an elementary school student): what the hell was I doing wrong? 

I was five, six, seven. Sometimes I cried or got mad. I knew that. So I said sorry. I said sorry for not knowing how to tie my shoes. For not wanting to go to school. For getting upset when my brother was mean to me.

Every single little thing I assumed was a mistake. If my mom cried, it was my fault. If I didn't want to do my chores, I was a bad person. If I disobeyed, I was on a slippery slope to hell. And to me, I didn't even care about the fire or eternal damnation or all these concepts that were supposed to frighten you into donating ten percent of your gross income to the church. 

All I cared about was that I might never see my mom again. 

Every time a pastor warned me about lying, stealing, premarital lust, being sad, not fulfilling my role as a female human, daring to question a man in a leadership position—it was like a little bell in the back of my head would ring and a warning message would flash: You're never going to see your mom again.

And the closer she came to death—every ineffective doctor's appointment, every test gone wrong, every step backward—the fear intensified. My mom's death wasn't a vague thing. It wasn't something that would eventually happen in the far future and I could just not think about it.

Try not thinking about it when she's lying on the couch vomiting into a bucket for three days.

Try not thinking about it when she's in so much pain she can't even stand up.

Try not thinking about it when old ladies make rude comments about her being too young to use an electric cart at the grocery store. Or when you're loading her wheelchair into the trunk of the car. Or when you're twelve years old and carrying in the groceries and doing the laundry and cleaning the house because she can't.

Her death was a fear I stared in the face every single day.

I guess it shouldn't surprise me that as an adult, I turned my back on an ideology that told a five-year-old they were so evil they were likely to be ripped away from their mother at a moment's notice, separated for all eternity. From an ideology that offered no guarantees that heaven was even attainable. From an ideology that couldn't even make up its mind about what the "right" path to heaven was. 

Which means it also shouldn't be surprising that believing nothing comes after death is a much easier belief to bear.

There is no heaven; there is no hell. There is only now. 

When I die, I'll be dead.

And that's okay.

[itslenagain]

[ Part 1 here / Part 2 here / Part 3 here / Part 4 here ]

PART 5

"A series of viral videos online has lead to calls for investigation into a woman claiming to be the Greek goddess Hera-"

"I was on that plane and I was afraid for my life! We all barely escaped! What if they're terrorists, or-"

"They're illegals, they don't have jobs, they don't pay taxes, they're just a couple millennial freeloaders LARPing as Gods-"

"Well I guess *Hera* is pretty in the face, but that girl needs to lose weight before I'd say she's beautiful-"

"Here to talk about Greek mythology is Giorgio A. Tsoukalos, a UFO-ologist who claims aliens on Mount Olympus-"

"We cannot allow these so-called *Greek gods* to run around and threaten the values of our Christian nation-"

"I don't know if she's really a Goddess, but damn, I'd love to worship that thick ass-"

Bev turns off the TV and throws the remote at the wall. The batteries pop out and the cover flies under the sofa. She roars in frustration, eyeing the new dent in the wall of her Manhattan penthouse. She grabs her phone and furiously dials the number. "Joanne? Go find-"

"I'm way ahead of you, Bev. They're both on their way via armored transport. I made sure they were not seen."

"Hallelujah," Bev mumbles. "Don't bring them to New York - there's a paper trail proving I'm here. Take them to Providence."

"Roger," Joanne says, and hangs up. She turns to Hera and Kimberly. "That's the code word for her safehouse in Havana. I hope you don't get seasick."

The door to Bev's penthouse busts open as battering rams pound their way through. "FBI! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" The agent commands.

They're too late. Bev is gone, already three steps ahead.

(An hour later...)

Kimberly is anxious. The confrontation on the plane changed, well, *everything.* Suddenly, she and Hera are all over the news, the internet too, everyone with their own wild speculation or opinion on the situation. Kimberly had a normal life at some point, right? It was hard for her to even remember it at this point.

Hera is scrolling through internet feeds, laughing wildly at the whole ordeal. She turns to Kimberly. "What is a TERF?"

"An asshole who thinks you can't be a woman if you weren't born as one."

Hera cackles. "Mortals are ridiculous, aren't they?" She shows a meme to Kimberly with a painting of Hera labeled "The Original TERF," followed by a long manifesto on how as the Goddess of women, Hera would hate trans women. Kimberly winces. "They don't even understand the history they wrote of us. Uranus is the God of masculinity and he doesn't even have a penis anymore. Womanhood is not about body parts or the circumstances of birth."

Kimberly smiles. "Maybe the world needs you right now. Maybe, somehow, this is all happening at the right time."

Joanne looks back. "You aren't posting anything, right?! Is your location off?" She snatches the phone out of Hera's hand. She looks at it for a moment, then returns it to Hera. "Where did you get this?"

"I swirled my hands around and there was a lot of chanting and glitter and then magically I had a cellphone." Hera's deadpan expression sends Kimberly into a laughing fit. "I went to a store and bought it. But then I found someone who could help make it 100% untraceable to keep Zeus from using it to find me."

"Who's the someone?" Joanne asks.

Hera winks. "I can't show you my *whole* hand."

(The next day...)

Kimberly stretches and gets out of bed. Hera is seated in an armchair in the corner, cigarette in one hand, a massive book under the other. She glances up and smiles. "Good morning, my love."

Kimberly crosses the room and kisses her, slow and soft. "What are you reading?"

"Bev says I need to study. She's looking for a way to establish some sort of US citizenship for me. She's chain-smoking on the deck."

Kimberly steps out onto the deck. Bev looks frazzled. Kimberly has never seen her like this. Cigarette butts are scattered around the deck, a discarded pack lying on the ground. Bev looks up and stiffens. "Sorry," she mumbles, trying to pull her frizzy hair back from her face. "How're you holding up?"

"...I'm not really sure how to answer that," Kimberly replies with a chuckle. "I never imagined my first love would be a Goddess-turned-international-fugitive with a crazy husband."

Bev studies her carefully. "You've never been in love before?"

"Nahhh. I never felt like I needed it. I was always kind of a loner. There were girls here and there, but I never felt a meaningful connection, you know?" Bev offers Kimberly a cigarette, which she declines, instead reaching for an unopened can of beer on the table. "Hera just... I don't know. She upended everything I thought I knew about myself. I was never anxious before. Now I worry about her, about Zeus, the world, about not being good enough or strong enough, everything... and she has this way of just looking at me and suddenly the anxiety is melting and I can't even imagine why I was worried in the first place. And part of me feels stupid for ever thinking I could just exist without knowing what this felt like."

Bev laughs. "You've got it bad, huh?" Her eyes flash with pain. "I... I am envious." She lights another cigarette, quickly thumbing away a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

"...I noticed you've got pictures of yourself with someone in all your offices." Kimberly says. "...do you need to talk about it?"

Bev runs a hand through her hair. "I don't know. I've gotten so good at *not* talking about it that I don't even know where I'd start. Not sure if I even want to."

Kimberly offers her an understanding expression. "It's okay if you don't want to or aren't ready or whatever. But, I'm here if you need to." Bev smiles.

Joanne sighs from behind the window, where she's been listening to the whole conversation. Should she have asked, all those years ago?

(Later that day...)

The group is seated around a round table, papers and books scattered about. "I'm not sure you would qualify as a refugee. The laws on entering the US with no real legal birth records are really tricky, and I mean, there are *no laws* on what to do if an immortal entity is trying to enter the country." Bev sighs. "We have to be really careful, because obviously there is a lot of interest in you. However, we might be able to use that to your advantage. You're already somewhat of a feminist icon in some circles, maybe we lean into those circles for support. If we can create a lot of public sympathy towards you, it will be harder for them to turn you away."

"Do you think it's dangerous to go back?" Kimberly asks.

"Well, my inside sources tell me the CIA is highly interested in Hera and Zeus from an intelligence standpoint. The FBI wants to track you down and criminally prosecute you for, I don't even know, I guess they think you're a threat." Bev laughs. "The media has taken a million different positions, but really I just think the people want to know more and they're clinging to whatever information they can get their hands on."

"Should we make a public statement?" Joanne asks. Everyone looks at her. "Maybe we can use the advantage of everyone wanting to know, by just telling them."

"I love it!" Hera exclaims.

"Too dangerous," Kimberly warns.

"Risky but not a bad plan," Bev ponders.

(That evening...)

"I'm here with a video submitted from an anonymous source that appears to be a legitimate recording of the Hera woman, our team has investigated the footage and it does not appear to be doctored. You heard it here first, here's an exclusive look at a message from the sensation herself...." The reporter disappears as Hera's image fills the screen.

"Citizens of the world... You know me from stories that have been written, oral traditions passed through the ages, artwork, all of it. I am Hera. I am the daughter of Cronus and Rhea, the mother of Ares, Hebe, Eileithyia, Hephaestus, and Eris. You know me as the wife of Zeus. Your world is more complex than you may know. For millennia, the Greek Pantheon has lived in Olympus, choosing to no longer interfere in the mortal world. However, I am in need of mortal help. You see, mortals have written my story. I have not had a chance to change, to share my side. My husband, Zeus, has committed many crimes against me. I cannot get divorced in Olympus. I am seeking asylum in the United States in an attempt to obtain a divorce. I want to sincerely apologize for those on the flight from Phoenix that were frightened when Zeus created a storm to scare me. With your help, we can make sure Zeus returns to Olympus and does not interfere with our world again. And, you can give me a chance to write my own story. I want to follow the example of so many strong women in mortal history who challenged their oppressors and came out victorious. Please, I urge you to give me the chance to be free."

[ Next ]

You are a divorce lawyer, the best in your field. You have just received word that you will representing the Greek goddess Hera in her divorce from Zeus.

[kamirappa]

A couple of items I got at my thrift store over the weekend.

4 movies

2 figures

1 game

Starting with the movies, I picked up A Bug's Life, Shark Tale, Psycho, and 9. I've never seen the last two before, so this is how I will watch them for the first time. I actually watched Psycho last night, it really set the mood for the spooky month. 9 was a movie I've been meaning to watch for a long time, but I never got around to it for whatever reason. Shark Tale I already owned on DVD, except I had the dreaded fullscreen version, so I replaced it with this Widescreen one. A Bug's Life is one of my favorite Pixar movies, and owning this collector's edition DVD feels strangely special to me. These early DVDs will always feel more premium than any newly released DVD.

The one game I bought, LEGO Star Wars II: The Original Trilogy on PSP. One of the three LEGO games on PSP actually worth getting since the ones that came after them were merely just ports of the crappier DS versions. As great as this game is, it's a real shame the PSP never got the Complete Saga. I think the most fascinating thing about this game is the release date (insert "mark this day in the history books" meme).

Last, but certainly not least, are these incredible Sonic & Shadow figures for the upcoming Sonic 3 movie. I've been wanting to get my hands on these for a short while now, and now that I have them, I can say that these look incredible. The Sonic 2 figures already looked great, but these are a huge step up! They really upped the articulation too, while it is cool, it kind of brings back horrible memories of Jazwares Sonic figures and their joints constantly breaking. But I'm pretty sure these are much better quality than those figures, so I'm not too worried about it.

Anyway, that's all I have to share. Time for me to go eat Kraft Dinnah to calm my nerves!

[rarepairnation]

3, 23, 24, 25, 27 and 30? 💕

hi hi ria!! blessings of rain be upon ye...

3. how you feel about your current wip

i am RATTLING the bars of the cage in my brain!!! by that i mean the faramir goes to rivendell au is possibly my favourite best thing ive ever written i am just stuck in the mudpit of the current conversation and i would like to. not be there. but i really do love working on it it feels like gradually assembling a structure around a framework and when i step back and really look at it its just. jrr tolkien and i are having A Conversation. you know? like yes!! i AM transforming the work!! i AM deciding whether he would fucking say that and i do think i am right at least 92% of the time!! ive had the concept of the au in my head for probably 3-4 years at least and i feel like. well i was never really going to feel Ready to write it. and yet i am grabbing it in my hands and doing it anyway and it IS making me a much better writer and i can Feel it. yeah i love it.

and umbar fic/situationship au is just me pushing the bounds of do it weird/do it horny/do it self-indulgent and it is. SO MUCH FUN. i think there has always been a little block in my head stopping me from doing that i mean like everything i write is kind of like. this is specifically created to cater to me. but the panopticon in my head is a crazy thing. but step by step we are defeating it. this is like the next step up from just so long as this thing's loaded which was kind of my first time pushing those bounds and. i mean there are a lot of things about that one that i think i could improve now (this is my REAL answer to that "would you rewrite anything" question from the other ask meme) but it definitely got me here. never underestimate the power of a rarepair to make you WEIRD. (<- abby rarepairnationcore sentences...)

23. pick three keywords that describe your writing

what is this a job application? LOL just kidding but i do suck at these. um. atmospheric. character-driven (yes this is two words but it is true). interrogative (i am IN THERE with. either the original text. or the minds of the characters. shakes u like a snow globe WHAT is going on in your head).

24. how do you recharge when you're not feeling creative?

im really bad at this. like actually spectacularly abysmal. i mostly sit around feeling sorry for myself for three to nine months. until i eventually buck up the motivation and executive function to actually (re)consume a piece of media and more often than not it will seize me by the throat and lead me out of the pit. yeah this does usually work best with things ive seen before that will awaken a dormant fixation.

25. besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

going to the grocery store. doing my dishes. LOL ok when i am Not Writing A Novel-Length Fic i knit. one day i will start doing it again i want to make. the extensive sweater vest collection of my dreams. but i already have this repetitive stress injury because i type for eight hours at work and then come home and type for four more and i think if i started knitting again on top of that i would immediately crumble to dust. and um. is that it? that can't be it. i do calligraphy sometimes. WAIT LOL I BIND BOOKS. -> @hexagonspress

27. your favourite part of the writing process

omg ok i'm not sure if this is like my Top Number One Favourite but ive recently started really enjoying drafting out ao3 tags and start/end notes it's really fun to work out what things i want people to notice that i might wanna talk about in the end notes and compressing everything down into tags (to varying extents) is also just a neat way to think about like. what was i trying to capture/convey with the fic. e.g. whether i wanna be really wordy with it and get it all out in there or just have the reader go in pretty much blind.

30. share a fic you're especially proud of

maybe i'll never shut up about TO THE VERY DEAR MEMORY OF [ ] but like...you guys. i love it so much. it's so so experimental because the place in my mind that is wrapped around yancy becket is so....complicated and full of grief and fundamentally altering to my brain chemistry and i can only capture it through the world's craziest extended metaphors but i kind of feel like i pulled it off. it is like truly the tip of the iceberg of a LOT of stuff that is really fundamental to honestly a lot of my? lotr work? i mean the way i think about water metaphors...the fundamental dead brother complex baked into my writer's brain...it's all pacific rim in there. this fic marinated in my head for THREE YEARS. that is the longest from inception to completion that any of my (published) work has existed (unpublished is a whole different story. there's a longfic that i created at the beginning of my freshman year of college and has stuck around into postgrad. i mean. girl). i wrote the poem that each first line of every section is extracted from in my parents' house during covid lockdown. and then it just had to sit and develop and develop until the yancy becket death anniversary this year yanked it forcibly out of my head and into a fully-formed format.

fic writer's asks