#we are still working through requests

[narftasticficrequests]

can you write a story where pinky comforts brain after a bad day maybe😼😼

Brain tossed and turned, the gift of sleep failing to reach him yet again. Every time he tried to close his eyes, he’d open them again mere seconds later, wide awake without an inkling of tiredness. Even as Pinky slumbered soundly next to him, his quiet noises usually allowing Brain to drift off, he still couldn’t fall asleep.

And he knew exactly why.

His plan for tonight had been a complete disaster. Not in the traditional sense, nothing exploded or melted luckily. But still, something horrible had occurred that left him without words.

For the rest of the night.

He had constructed an idea involving him using public speaking as a means to motivate the world into following his rule. Brain was optimistic that he would be able to express his potent vocabulary to encourage millions to benefit the good of the world. Was it a little corny? Certainly. Though he presumed that the population would support someone looking out for them without much hassle in this melancholy society.

Why did he have to be so wrong?

As soon as he stepped to the podium to present his great speech that he’d been advertising and preparing for days prior, the crowd turned on him. Badly. He had only gotten to say a few words before chaos ensued. The jeers of the people mocking him were cruel and unjust. Callous and insulting. Almost ridiculous, yet still based in reality.

“Look at how small he is!”

“He’s clearly an idiot. His forehead is the size of my pickup truck!”

“Great! Another fat politician to manipulate us.”

“You’re ugly!”

“You are overweight. Really fat.”

“Shut up!”

“No one cares about you. Get off the stage you moron!”

Brain tried easing the people to continue his speech, but soon, items began being thrown at him. Vegetables, the free pens he handed out earlier, even dangerous things like chairs. The crowd was livid, and their harsh yells continued to ring loudly in Brain’s ears.

“Pointless idiot!”

“Overweight dumbass!”

“Loser with no life!”

He felt sick to his stomach, lightheaded and weak. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath becoming labored. These dreadful phrases just kept coming, over and over again. It almost became like a mantra of sorts. And all he could do was blankly stare and avoid the occasional object haphazardly thrown in his direction. Brain swallowed a lump in his throat, doing his best to not cry.

He was so lost until he heard a familiar voice speak over the microphone.

“Stop hurting Brain! He’s trying to help you! Can’t you see that? Poit! Just leave my boyfriend alone!”

Pinky was far too kind to try and assist him with calming the crowd. Brain felt a little better knowing his partner was on his side, defending him to the very end.

Unfortunately, his admittance of the two being romantically involved proved to be the nail in the coffin.

The people got aggressive, the shouting increasing to a deafening degree. They raised their fists and Brain could only whimper as he began hearing insults thrown at both him and Pinky.

“Homosexual garbage!”

“Your boyfriend is as ugly as you!”

“I thought you were pathetic before but now that I see you’re in a same-sex relationship, you suck even more.”

“Fa-”

And that’s when he heard it. The infamous f slur. Brain only recently came to terms with his sexuality and when he looked up the word, he was more than a little unnerved. This was the first time he’d been called it though. And it hurt.

He felt himself grow dizzy as the people began to chant the word aloud. It was maddening how inconsiderate and cruel the public could be, not even giving him a chance to show what he could do. Brain was so lost in emotions that he didn’t even realize he’d been pulled off the stage by Pinky, who was grasping onto his paw with a worried expression.

“Brain, are you alright? Brain?”

All he could do was nod, his eyes still widened in disbelief at what had just unfolded. Brain bit his lip as he felt Pinky’s hold on him increase in intensity.

“Don’t listen to them. Narf. They don’t know that you’re the bestest mouse on the planet and they don’t need to know. I love you, Brain. That’s all that matters.” Pinky kissed Brain’s head soothingly, attempting to comfort him to his best ability.

Brain blinked at his partner once, his mind still in a haze. Still, he tried to show Pinky that he’d helped, thought it wasn’t entirely accurate. “T-thanks Pinky. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

He wasn’t fine. That was the furthest thing from the truth.

The entire walk back to the lab was silent. While the duo walked with their fingers intertwined underneath a starry night sky, Brain averted his gaze from Pinky, trying to hide his upset state. Pinky didn’t even say anything to lighten the mood, which was completely unusual for him. When they’d reached their cage, Brain went to bed instantly with Pinky following suit not too long after.

It was only 10:00. He wasn’t even tired.

Time passed and Brain still could not sleep. Pinky was a naturally quick sleeper, so he was already out and would likely remain asleep for a long time. He turned around to face his companion’s calm form. His face softened out when he noticed how peaceful Pinky looked and the miniscule smile that graced his lips. Brain blushed a little; Pinky was extremely adorable when he slept.

And yet, he still didn’t feel any better about what had happened earlier. In fact, he felt even more distressed now.

Brain couldn’t believe that such vicious and abrasive comments existed, that people could even bother judging him before they knew him personally. Though he relinquished in the support that Pinky brought him, he still felt vulnerable, inferior. Like everyone else saw him as a disappointment.

He knew that these words wouldn’t leave his mind, at least not tonight. Brain needed to contemplate all that had occurred in a secluded area, away from prying eyes (Pinky specifically). So, deciding that sleep was out of the question, Brain sat up in the bed, pulling the blanket away from his body. He was careful as to not accidentally make a sound when exiting.

Things were going well so far. Hopefully Pinky wouldn’t notice the shift in weight on his side.

The short mouse stood up, freezing for a moment, and glancing back towards his friend, who was thankfully still asleep. Brain sighed in relief before he began to walk away from the bed. He took quiet steps, hoping that nothing would deter him from finding a place to hide and ponder. He needed this mental break.

Brain almost reached the cage door, preparing to pick the lock open with his crooked tail when he heard the bed creak behind him.

“Brain? Where are you going so late?”

Drat. He’d been caught dead in his tracks. What was he to do? Acknowledge Pinky’s question and fess up to everything? Ignore his partner and pretend that he didn’t hear him, which would absolutely cause tension in their relationship?

Not wanting to discuss with Pinky his emotional instability, he decided on the latter option, which he would definitely regret at a later time. Brain trudged farther away from Pinky, not responding to his question as he continued working on the lock.

“Are you okay? Zort. Is something bothering you?”

There was no stopping him, was there? He didn’t really have a choice. Pinky would be adamant about knowing what was up and would not silence easily. Groaning in annoyance but putting on a look of contentment, he turned around to face Pinky, who looked extremely concerned and unsure.

“Uhm…everything’s alright Pinky.” Brain slowly moved away from the cage door, trying not to reveal any of the thoughts that were currently invading his mind. He came up with a quick lie to further sway his companion. “I was just heading back to bed after…uh…taking a last look at my notes for tomorrow’s plan. Nothing to fret over. Go to sleep.”

Pinky quirked an eyebrow, not buying Brain’s fib in the slightest. He sat up from the bed and began walking slowly towards the megalomaniac. “I don’t believe you. You look all scowly and sad. Is something wrong? Do you wanna talk about it?”

Brain felt himself stall as Pinky approached him. Curse his inability to lie in a stressful situation. Pinky had seen right through his façade. His friend’s emotional intelligence was truly befuddling.

“I assure you that I’m fine as I stand currently. You…you don’t have to worry about me at all. We don’t have to discuss anything.” He tried backing away from Pinky, but his legs just wouldn’t move. It’s like he was stuck in place. “Really, Pinky. It’s fine. We can just return to the bed and prepare for tomorrow night. Everything’s just great.”

The taller mouse shook his head, maintaining his watch on Brain’s now anxious face. He continued to walk towards him, almost demandingly.

“Zort. You’re lying Brain. I can tell. Is this about what happened earlier at your speech thingy?”

Oh no. He knew about that. He’s understood that Brain hadn’t been okay after the failed plan. Pinky knew. How he’d known was not a question that Brain was worried about. Rather it was the fact that sooner or later, he’d need to fess up to Pinky about what had truly been happening.

Brain halted, fighting back against the sudden increase in emotions rising within him. He was at his breaking point; guess he just had to come clean now. There was no way out. “Alright, you got me.” Brain started, his voice laced with sarcasm, anger, aggression, and a little sorrow. “That whole entire speech plan was a failure. And for once, it was for something that wasn’t exactly my fault. That sounds great, right? Well, it’s not.” Brain’s face fell, his breath hitching before he resumed. “For once, a plan failed because of things I claim I can control, but I actually can’t. Those people only saw the worst parts of me. Ones I’ve been trying to alter for years now so that I may appeal to the masses. I finally go out as myself and look where that got me! People threw produce in my direction. I got called offensive names. Just for my looks. And, Pinky, just face it, I believe their statements were accurate.”

Pinky gasped, running over to Brain quickly before attempting to console him by placing his paws on Brain’s shoulders. “Brain. You know that what those people said was just stupid. You know that. I care about you…”

“You don’t understand, Pinky! You’ll never understand these hardships I’ve had to go through my entire life!” He pulled away from his companion, his agitation increasing rapidly and his tone raising to an agitated shout.

“Look at this.” He gestured towards his body, trying to get his point across by all means necessary. “I’m overweight, pathetic, and no one cares about me. I’m judged before I’m even given a chance to do something for the greater good. People hate me for simply existing. It’s not like you where you walk into a room, and everyone instantly wants to be your friend. I work harder than anyone to gain appreciation for the things I do, and it never works out in my favor. Others just see me as a chubby loser with no meaning in life.”

“Brain, I sometimes don’t feel good about meself too. Narf. I don’t just walk into a room and make friends, at least for the most part. And you are not a loser. You are incredible and smart and super handsome…”

“Just listen!” He cut Pinky off again, though he didn’t even care about hearing what Pinky had to say; he needed to get this off his chest before it caused him to collapse internally. “Don’t you understand what they called us at the speech? When you tried defending me, they hated me even more simply because I’m in a relationship with someone of my exact gender. I’ve only recently accepted that side of myself, and I’m already being put down for it. I just…I can’t…”

A garbled sob slipped out. Brain allowed a few tears to run down his face. His control over himself was gradually dissipating. He only felt worse when he saw Pinky’s upset expression, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Things were escalating. And Brain wasn’t done yet.

“I’m worthless, Pinky! I fail at everything I do! It’s how the world sees me apparently. And everyone was right. I’m just a pretentious, moronic, useless, stupid fa-”

He was silenced, not by his own volition, but by Pinky forcibly pushing him to the floor, restraining him with his own body. He was about to respond in alarm before he felt lips press against his own. This kiss was aggressive and messy yet still tender and calming. Brain closed his eyes as he accepted all of Pinky’s intense feelings which seemed to transfer between their connected mouths. He held onto his partner’s back tightly, moaning softly as the kiss deepened.

Pinky was the one to part for air, Brain huffing heavily after the unexpected kiss. He and Pinky sat up, still gasping for breath. But before he could process what happened, he was grabbed by the shoulders as Pinky stared at Brain face-to-face, with a look that could only be described as enraged.

“No, no, NO!! Brain, you DO NOT say those awful words to yourself or to me! Poit! You are NOT any of those things you said. Not even close!! And you DO NOT CALL YOURSELF THAT HORRIBLE WORD!! I looked up what it means on the Goggle site earlier and it’s most definitely not okay to call yourself that unless you’re positive about it! You are incredible and amazing, and I love you so much! Troz! You don’t deserve those meany-mean people’s attention! Do you understand?!” Pinky yelled, louder than he’d ever yelled before.

Brain wasn’t expecting Pinky to be this hostile with him, but he wasn’t entirely opposed to it. His friend’s kind but firm words made him feel a little better, though he continued to hold in tears.

Pinky seemed to notice this, moving his paws to cup Brain’s cheeks and rub them gently. His angry scowl turned into a soft smile as he inhaled and calmed down. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re overweight. I like your chubby head and belly. They’re so much fun to squish! Zort!” He nuzzled Brain’s nose, causing the pink-eyed mouse to blush again. “Those people don’t see what I see in you, Brain. But their opinion doesn’t matter. As long as I love you, that’s all that matters to me.”

Brain held his breath, trying to hold in a very aggressive outburst. Pinky was truly his everything, his world. But he still felt this nasty feeling inside. Like even though he had his partner, it still wasn’t enough.

As if Pinky had read his mind, he pulled Brain closer, placing a small peck on his temple. “I can tell you’ve been holding in a lot recently.”

All Brain could do was sit without words, still attempting to contain his feelings.

“You don’t have to hold back for me, love. Let it out. You’ll feel much better when you do.”

Overcome with emotions that were becoming too much for him to bear, Brain proceeded to bury his face into Pinky’s chest, sobbing hard. He was so exhausted of all those horrific words poisoning his thoughts. Still, he was relieved that Pinky didn’t care about him allowing him to let himself go a bit. He held onto his companion like his life depended on it.

Pinky calmed Brain, lovingly tracing his fingers through Brain’s fur, and whispering soft, comforting words in his ear, hoping it would help. Luckily, it seemed to be working.

As Brain continued to bawl, he couldn’t help but feel as if not all these tears were as a result of what those people had said. Some were certainly from the fact that Pinky was still with him, aiding him with all these problems and loving him boundlessly. He was so grateful for Pinky. Especially at times like this.

After what seemed like hours, Brain sighed, his built-up feelings fading away slowly, but surely. He hummed, pulling his head from Pinky, and staring into his partner’s soft blue gaze. He sniffed a little before allowing himself a light smile.

Pinky took this as a sign that Brain was finished crying. He placed his paws on Brain’s cheeks, scrubbing the excess tears off with his thumb. “Are you feeling better now, Brain? Poit. Are all those nasty-wasty feelings gone?” he asked delicately, his voice in a faint whisper.

Once again reduced to silence, albeit because of entirely different reasons, Brain could only nod once before he pushed himself forward, resting his face into Pinky’s chest once again, but this time in a tight embrace. Almost instantly, he began to place kisses along his companion’s body, anywhere he could reach. Pinky reacted appropriately, breaking out into fervent giggles as the two fell to the floor.

“Braaaaaaaaain!” Pinky’s entire face was red in a deep blush, his smile bright. “What are you doing?”

Brain smirked suggestively at Pinky, brushing his fingers along his partner’s fur as he briefly stopped kissing him to respond. “Why, Pinky. I’m simply showing my appreciation for you in a way we both can comprehend.” He nuzzled his nose against Pinky’s chest, almost purring. It was primitive, but he couldn’t be bothered.

“Naaaaarrf!!” Pinky swooned, his breath catching as he exhaled as Brain continued to hold him close. He could hardly believe how snuggly Brain was being. His heartbeat became louder; he was positive that Brain could hear it now.

“I do hope this isn’t too much. Over-stepping your boundaries is something I never want to do to you, considering how much I care about you.” Brain was still a little insecure about his…romance skills. He never wanted to make Pinky feel uncomfortable.

“Of course not, Brain!” Pinky placed a soft kiss on Brain’s nose, causing the latter mouse’s face to flush darkly. “It’s perfect, darling. Please keep going!”

He happily obliged to Pinky’s request, grabbing his lover by the waist and continuing to show how much he truly loved him. Brain peppered kisses along the crook of Pinky’s neck and on his collarbone, making sure not to miss a single spot. It didn’t take him long to begin kissing Pinky’s face too, occasionally sneaking a peck onto Pinky’s lips to add an element of surprise.

Pinky burst into hysterics once more, his infectious laughter leading Brain to chuckle slightly in between kisses. “Oh, Brain! I’m so happy you’ll be okay! Troz!” He cupped Brain’s cheeks to stop him temporarily. “I love you.”

Brain couldn’t help but smile in Pinky’s tender hold. “I love you too,” he whispered gently, before pushing himself forward to begin kissing Pinky once more.

While he knew that others would hold him back and ridicule him, Brain was positive that Pinky would be there to love him and cherish him during all the harsh turmoil.

As long as Pinky loved him, the world would come to him someday.

 No one could do anything about that.

#pinky and the brain #brinky #animaniacs #patb #hey y'all sorry you haven't heard from me in a while!!! #i've been going through some life stuff but I'm still working on requests as we speak #im sorry for making y'all wait for so long but im back!! #I will do my best to finish requests soon!!

[goldkirk]

Patreon question

I'm focusing hard on budgeting, and one of the things I want to do more of in the coming year is support independent creators/small groups on Patreon and Substack, even if I can only do a little bit at a time. I have a few creators I already support on Patreon, and two on Substack, but I'd love to support more.

I know you've got creators that you love to support on these platforms! Tell me who you support and why you started supporting them if you have creators that are especially unique or near and dear to you. Anything and everything, across the board, I love supporting small business and I love finding new people and niches I never heard about before. There're no wrong answers here!

#I support a few freelance artists and writers and a couple of content creators like Crash Course and Jo Beckwith #I want to hear anything and anyone you've cared enough about to donate to/support! #ALSO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. IF WE ARE MUTUALS OR FRIENDS AND YOU HAVE A KO FI OR A PATREON LET ME KNOW #THAT IS NOT A REQUEST THAT IS AN ORDER (unless you really truly don't want to. but if you just feel like it's too prideful or not a #'big enough' thing/deal or you don't want to 'bother me'. DO IT. I WANT TO HAVE YOU ON MY LIST TO SUPPORT IF I CAN #I often rotate small amounts of money to different creators every few months in a cycle so I can spread it around still even though #I can't help much. it feels so good to do and makes me feel like I do when I shop a true small or local business. direct action babyyy etc #especially if the creator is going through a health crisis like Physics Girl #2024 #to do #reply here or send me a dm or drop an ask in my inbox or make a post and tag me #whatever #i want to hear why you love what you love #i want to hear what you care about so much you already do or want to in the future financially support it #the world is full of so much amazing work and inspiring creativity and massive efforts #i love learning about them so i get to acknowledge and witness and support them too #i love GitHub for the same reason lol

[meanderfall]

i deadass have no more patience for customers not communicating effectively anymore that when one of them just went on and on about how their rain check is almost expired and the product is never on the shelf, i just waited for them to stop talking and went "ok, so what are you asking me actually?"

#why do I have to jump through fucking HOOPS to figure out what YOU want? #do you want me to ask the store manager if we still carry it? do you want me to extend the rain check? what's your actual fucking request #you moron. you absolute fool #same energy when i ask a customer if they want the gas discount and they just respond with ''what's that?'' #i now answer ''it's a discount for gas'' #ask stupid questions get stupid answers #it actually drives me insane that they don't bother figuring out what's the actual information they're looking for #like do you want to know how much it is? where it is? how it works? THEN ASK THAT #''what's that'' my god. i can't take it. they're so fucking stupid

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 15

“Over Yet" by Hayley Williams

#song of the day #very exciting to have one of my brothers tell me entirely unprompted that he's enjoying the current playlist #a very big win #I spent most of my work day today doing what I've been thinking of as 'evil rubber-ducking' #where the IT guys throw me the especially Difficult faculty members--the ones who can't be helped because they won't listen-- #and I trick them into actually talking me through what they're doing so we can find the problem and fix it #(eternally amazed by people who request help and then refuse it. you called me bud. you submitted a service request ticket on purpose. #oh you can't do your job without connecting to the vpn? that's great we can't fix it until you tell us what's fucking stopping you) #mostly this 'tricking' takes the form of me being a sweet young butter-wouldn't-melt Southern girl in over my head with mean IT guys #bless them (derogatory) these folks who won't let IT even attempt to start working through the 'have you tried' scripts #because they know they're getting something wrong but are too angry-embarrassed to admit they don't know what #are still delighted to mansplain the idea of a remote connection to me #--that's not fair. I shouldn't mischaracterize them it's mostly not mansplaining. #the two today were yankee-splaining me. city-splaining maybe. #what would a hick like me (y'all is one person. all y'all or some'a y'all for multiple people) possibly know about enterprise networks-- #anyway they were using the wrong login credentials and were so sure of themselves they'd never even tried the other set just to see #bless. their. hearts. #(IT owes me so many little favors like this now. the latest database tweak I asked for got done live while I described it to them) #anyway anyway! love the chorus on this song #'to get out of your head yes break a sweat / baby tell yourself it ain't over yet' #makes me move my head every time

[sapphicautistic]

Demolition has actually, finally, started 😭

please send good thoughts that they don't find any problems we don't already know about so we can have a functional kitchen again in a week or 2!!

#so funny how much of what we esp I say is a replacement for older christian habits #even if we (i) don't really believe thoughts change anything it's still comforting somehow!! #anyways the work team leader has zero patience for questions or requests so I'm glad we got to talk to his supervisor as well the other day #n ask questions #he seemed visibly trying hard and barely succeeding at not calling me an idiot and telling me to go away #my sweetie is now trapped on the other side of the house bc we asked if we'd be able to walk through and he said yes -probably to shut us u #but we can't atm lol #anyways #updates on my boring life

[stargazerdaisy]

Within the first 15 minutes of work (keep in mind, I logged in 15 minutes early), I've been hit by three different disputes where customers think they don't have to pay for work performed. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

#daisy rants #listen I can have some sympathy for the position of 'we asked you to fix it and you didn't fix it' #BUT #here is the key #we never promised that we would fix it or you wouldn't be charged #that's not how this works #listen we don't purposely NOT fix things #but sometimes we can't fix them #OR through conversations ~with the customers~ the customers decide to not continue with the repair #guess what bitch #we still spent time and expertise on that call #even if it was determined we couldn't or you didn't want us to resolve it #and we deserve to be compensated for that #I don't get to not pay the mechanic because he told me that it would cost X amount to fix my car and I decided to buy a new one instead #I still have to pay him for his time #the key is - the time we spent working on your request meant that we couldn't be working on someone else's #someone would who pay us #I see waaaaaaaay more of us giving away free work than I see of us charging for unnecessary work #but of course the customers don't see that side of things #(that's not sarcastic; that's actually me understanding they can't know some of this stuff because it's never visible to them) #anyway #my 'I only have a couple of meetings today so I am going to catch up on emails and loose threads' attitude lasted about 7 minutes #i now regret coming to work today and want nothing to do with it

[dorkicon]

bitching abt homophobia n shit at my job in the tags o7 happy pride

#so i voluenteer at a library n work there through a 3rd party job center over the summer. ive volunteered there for like 5 yrs so i know -- #--the staff there p well #anyway yeah so like last year our pride display got taken down bc someone complained. our director didnt really contest this. #our pride display got taken down again. this time with the board threatening to cut funding if we put it back up. #no contesting yet again #its literally just the corner of a 3 sided display podium with some gay books or whatever #some guy comes in and tears up our lgbt author rec list. the director removes those as well #there r 2 bi clerks and one genderqueer clerk and me! the fag gopher and she still doesnt feel it pertinent 2 stick up for the ppl who-- #work there #or maybe she does right? like i want to believe she does bc ive known her for 5 maybe 6 actually years. ive gone to christmas-- #parties at her house. shes been someone i can count on before and yet here she is letting us all down #bc its not just me or the gay ppl who work there right its for the ppl in my shitty fucking southern town who have basic common decency #shes someone i thought was some kind of ally HAHAH...like that term feels lame but #.....yeah yknow? #she even said shed be moving picture books with gay parents and shit into a quote quote adult matters section into the juvenile section #i assume on request of the board bc obvs being trans or gay or whatever is of course an adult matter that will taint our beautiful little #tow headed bastards #we even had the guy who requested the pride display be taken down come in today and CHECK to make sure no faggy books were out #ive been very angry about it and i just need to ...spit it up somewhere. maybe a transformers blog isnt the best place for it but whatever. #sorry about my language lol. #shes my boss and its going to be a real issue for me bc she laughed saying id have to start cleaning bathrooms this year and i legitimately #--nearly had to leave the room. like haha really funny. glad you can laugh about shit. did you know im a fucking queer.

[skitskatdacat63]

I hate when apps temporarily block your acct bcs "suspicious activity", yeah yeah I understand it's for security measures BUT PLEASE IM JUST BAD AT REMEMBERING PASSWORDS, LET ME LIVE 😭😭

#having a bit of a freak out right now 🌚 #my best friend is gonna be in china for 2 months and our only option of communication is wechat #expect i forgot to log into wechat lately so it logged me out and i cant remember my pass and it got pissy with me for requesting sms codes #so it temporarily blocked me for suspicious behavior PLEASE WECHAT I JUST AM IMPATIENT #and then it said i requested unblocking too many times i have to 'wait' #wait how fucking long wechat?????? how long????????? #and even then with requesting your acct to be unblocked the easiest way is to get a friend w a wechat acct to verify you #HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU THINK I HAVE WECHAT 😭😭😭😭 #MY ONLY FRIEND WHO HAS WECHAT IS ON HER WAY TO CHINA AS WE SPEAK WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT THAT #she has to stop in another country for like half a day so im hoping when she lands she can help me 😭 #BUT WHAT IF I STILL CSNT REQUEST BY THEN?? WHAT DO I DO THEN WECHAT???? #once she gets to china i feel like im basically fucked #but yes i understand security measures but jesus christ please irs me i swear why are you making me jump through all these hoops????? #but im gonna actually be so upset if this screws up me being able to msg her :( we talk every day :( #i think i will actually combust and die if were just no contact for that long im actually gonna die #how am i gonna survive without her sending me china pics and me harassing her with f1 updates :((( #ugh i dont know what to do :( and i feel really upset abt it #maybe whatsapp will work and we can fix my acct but who knows :( #catie.rambling.txt

[sluttyten]

the vibe of the day is to be in a bad fucking mood

#like tell me why me and the opening manager are the only ones that actually showed up on time #one girl didn’t show up and sent the two managers that called her directly to voice mail but when the GM called her she immediately answered #then she comes into work with a bad fucking attitude because she claims she was supposed to be off today but she was literally scheduled and #didn’t request it off #and then the guy who was scheduled in at 6:30 but knew he might have to come in earlier because he was putting up our truck we got lastnight #ignored the texts and call from the opening manager telling him the truck came in early and then he was still another like 30-45 minutes #late on his scheduled time in #and then the guy that was supposed to be here at 8 called but claims the call didn’t go through and claims he texted the GM but the text did #not go through so he just texted the manager who’s actually here today and said he wouldnt be coming in because he can’t breathe?? so we #were all like fuck ok great got the No breather the one who’s late and putting up the truck and the one with the bad fucking attitude #but then!!!! the one who texted/called in shows up!!! randomly!! like bro!! you called out so why the fuck are you here #so it’s been chaos because we’ve been trying to do shit in a rush thinking we weren’t gonna have people #we’ve rearranged peoples positions like 17 fucking times we’ve been nonstop busy too and I’m currently on break and feel like ripping my #hair out and not speaking any more because my throat is dry from the nonstop order taking in drive thru and running around grabbing things #and then there are the customers giving me fucking attitude too like get tf out of here #oh also the line opener was at least 10 minutes late bc the opening manager texted me in a panic/a mood already because the two openers werw #late and it’s this manager’s first day opening #just like fuck today lol

[nikatyler]

I am *this* close to doing Ross’s story but without the NSB elements. Aaaand a bunch of other changes. Aaaa

#nika rambles #to name a few. caleb who. i don't know him we have another vampire tho #i'm not sure if i'd make any changes to his parents #(ross's parents i mean. december and kieran) #but december would totally take kieran's surname. so ross's surname would be different too #i think i'd change the way ross and callias met #the older i get the more uncomfortable it makes me #i mean yeah it was just the game being silly but...dunno. i just don't really like it anymore. all things considered #oh. high school ross would need a lot of work #he'd still date a lot but at the end of the day he's just a nerd and a loser (affectionate) #which. i think he's always been. but it didn't come through that much in my gameplay #eh don't mind me i'm just rambling #funny thing is that just a few weeks ago #i was thinking about a storyline for him and *caleb*. in the nsb universe #it would be part of wrapping the whole legacy up. gen 10 and everything #but i'm not sure about it now #but that also has to do with my growing insecurity about using an ea townie like that. idk. i've mentioned it before i think #yeah it's dumb to worry about it i know #insecurities aside i genuinely enjoy callias more though #eh anyway. gonna go to my game and take some pictures and work on some more requests

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #dunmeshi analysis #I love it when dungeon meshi says. the trauma was real and it changed you #and the way you are because of it isn’t anything to be ashamed of #but you have to keep living. you have to chose to keep living. #and you can #dungeon meshi spoilers

[thetreetopinn]

Sources for Somerton's Plagiarism from Hbomberguy's Video (as much as I could get)

I went back through Harry's video, focused entirely on the sources James Somerton pulled from in the hopes of creating as much of a comprehensive list as I could--though my Google-Fu is not very strong. I did however find something I thought was forever lost and that made me very happy--specifically the magazine Midlands Zone containing the column by Steven Spinks that Harry poignantly used as an illustration of gay erasure... while Somerton uses it to sound like HE is waxing remorseful about the very subject.

This is not a complete list, I'm sure. For one thing, I was only able to attempt to pull sources that Harry himself mentioned in the video. Surely there's so very much more out there. I expect there to be a great deal more internet archeology to unearth just how much writing and culture Somerton has stolen like he's the British Museum of Natural History but for gay people.

- - - - -

Harry's list of mentioned youtubers:

Alexander Avila - https://www.youtube.com/@alexander_avila Matt Baume - https://www.youtube.com/@MattBaume Khadija Mbowe - https://www.youtube.com/@KhadijaMbowe Lady Emily - https://www.youtube.com/@LadyEmilyPresents Shanspeare - https://www.youtube.com/@Shanspeare RickiHirsch - https://www.youtube.com/@RickiHirsch VerilyBitchie - https://www.youtube.com/@verilybitchie

Harry created a convenient playlist of videos by these and other people he wants to bring to everyone's attention.

Please give them your support.

- - - - -

Midlands Zone Magazine - Column by Steven Spinks

After a great deal of searching, I found an archive of the "Midlands Zone" magazine, where you can read through past issues dating all the way back to February 2014. I have also found the issue from which Somerton took Spinks' poignant discussion of gay erasure: Overall archive Specific Issue - Pages 16-17

It will not allow you to download it, but you can read it exactly as it appeared in print form.

- - - - -

My best effort to find the exact book or article Somerton lifted from to be able to get attention to the original writers

Tinker Bells and Evil Queens By Sean Griffin

The Celluloid Closet By Vito Russo Wikipedia article about the book Wikipedia article about the documentary My weak google-fu could not find where you can access the book or documentary. Check your local municipal or university library for book or documentary, or if you know a good source for one or both, please reblog with it added

Camp and the Gay Sensibility By Jack Babuscio

The Groundbreaking Queerness of Disney's Mulan By Jes Tom Personal site with links to social media accounts

Why Rebel Without a Cause was a milestone for gay rights By Peter Howell

Why "The Craft" is still the best Halloween coming out movie By Andrew Park

Opinion: From facehuggers to phallic tails, is 'Alien' one of the queerest films ever? By Dani Leever

Women and Queerness in Horror: Jennifer's Body By Zoe Fortier

[Pride 2019] We Have Such Sights to Show You: Hellraiser and the Spectrum of Queerness By Alejandra Gonzalez

Revealing the Hellbound Heart of Clive Barker's 'Hellraiser' By Colin Arason

Queering James Cameron's Aliens (1986) By Bart Bishop

Demeter and Persephone in space: transformation, femininity, and myth in the 'Alien' films By David Greven

Fears of a millennial masculinity: Scream's queer killers By David Greven (Scholarly site, unable to access original work, offers a way to request a full copy of the text in PDF)

Queer Subtext in Stephen King's It - Part 1: 'Reddie' Character Analysis By Rachel Brands Rachel is the very unfortunate lady who found out she was being stolen from because she supported Somerton through Patreon and saw one of his videos early with her writing--lacking any form of citation or credit

How 'It: Chapter Two' Leaves Richie Tozier Behind By Joelle Monique

When Horror Becomes Strength: Queer Armor in Stephen King's 'IT' By Alex London

Why Queer People Love Witchcraft By Amanda Kohr

'The Favourite' Queers The Past And The Present By Giorgi Plys-Garzotto

(Wuko) Crush (Mako x Wu) By MoonFlower on YouTube

5 Terrible Movies With Awesome Hidden Meanings By J.F. Sargent

The Radicalization of Sexuality: The Queer Casae of Jeffrey Dahmer By Ian Barnard

Netflix's 'Dahmer' backlash highlights ethical issues in the platform's obsession with true crime By Shivani Dubey

The Possible Disturbing Dissonance Between Hajime Isayama's Beliefs and Attack on Titan's Themes Original Article by "Seldom Musings" (Author has made all posts not related to Attack On Titan private and has retired from the blog)

Everyone Loves Attack on Titan. So Why Does Everyone Hate Attack on Titan? By Gita Jackson

- - - - -

The following people are otherwise named in the video. There are no direct citations of articles or books by them in said video. I am unable to guarantee that I have identified the correct individual.

Darren Elliott-Smith Michaela Barton David Church Claire Sisco King Amanda Howell Jessica Roy

- - - - -

Telos announced and cancelled a film likely based on this book: The Final Girl Support Group - By Grady Hendrix

- - - - -

I refrained from including certain sources.

First off only focusing on Somerton's work.

Secondly not including anything that might be visible enough to not require amplifying their voice (I cannot speak for all of those I have found links to, but journalism is frequently a thankless job).

Thirdly any source that is of a nature that is antithetical to the very existence of the queer community, such as the right-leaning source that didn't make it into Somerton's video, but Harry was able to identify as a source he had considered using.

If you feel I have missed a mentioned source--or you know of a source from material that was not covered in Harry's video--please do not hesitate to reblog with added details.

- - - - -

Please share this information far and wide, and please add to it if you find more material that can be positively identified and linked to the creator/writer.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #Plagiarism #Queer #LGBT #LGBTQIA #youtube #Solidarity #gay erasure #Make them un-erased

[ereborne]

Work is on fire, so close to finishing the current work and now the old work has broken, however: I get to work with the old boss again.  Fuck but I missed her

She comes in, tells me the horrible news, I start cussing, she starts laughing, and then we both get to work, immediately and without needing to discuss what we’re doing, while both continuing to cuss and laugh.  Fuck but I missed her

#yapping tag #IT is working away diligently at the requests I've made and the data structure stuff is at a good holding point #so of course it's time for the old ESL institute to need me back again! in December we hired in a new lady to replace me there #and now she is /hospitalized from the stress of the position/ thank you I will be screaming now #not even two months! the school was closed for Winter Break for half that time! #/hospitalized from the stress of the position/ I am going to eat my own feet I am going to peel my own face I am going to /cry/ #she didn't make it through one graduation! she didn't do any of the scheduling for the new session! she didn't even get trained on /how/ #HOSpitalized from the STRESS of the poSITION I am going to screeeeeeeeeam #anyway it's Tuesday and I have until 9:00am Friday to do everything this woman was supposed to have done since last Thursday #and oh yes of course also I /still have my own new job to do in the meantime/ I am going to BITE SOMEONE #(not her not her I'm angry but I'm not angry /at her/ I'm not going to take it out on her it's not her fault the job is a nightmare #I will continue to repeat this to myself until I remember it /I am not angry at her/ aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh) #good news though I have been confirmed a plot at the community garden so the Good Boss and I can talk about gardening while we #you know. put out unlimited unceasing and overlapping fires

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!! #my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her) #hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet. #i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!! #i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art. #i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

[luveline]

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 

“I wanna see Max.” 

“She has to be here somewhere.” 

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 

Steve frowns at you worriedly. 

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Is it awful?” you ask. 

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 

“Dustin. He’s outside.” 

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?” 

“Like you like him.” 

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 

“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 

“He was touching you a lot.” 

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 

Oh, boy, you think. 

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 

“Steve.” 

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 

“What?” he asks. 

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?” 

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 

“I sounded weird?” 

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 

“You were in the way of the light.” 

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 

“It’s good.” 

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.” 

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 

“I thought…” And of course he did. 

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 

“I like you too!” he says loudly. 

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 

“You okay?” he asks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 

You nod vehemently. 

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.” 

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 

“You can be my parasol.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s a sun umbrella.” 

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 

“That’s perfect.” 

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 

“No… I’m thinking.” 

“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 

“It’s a question.” 

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke. 

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble

[amu-says-hav-says]

I can’t believe I went through all of Season 2 assuming Nina was the stand-in for Crowley when you actually pay attention it’s so CLEAR that she’s Aziraphale. I was tricked by her spiky, sarcastic, cynical outer shell and lulled into a false sense of security by Maggie’s bubbly optimism and wholesome goodness, because on the surface they reflect the ineffable husbands perfectly, in their personalities, their aesthetics, even many of their actions and morals. but not, and this is the real key, when it comes to their “relationship”. but those first impressions really had me damn fooled. 

I missed the blatantness of Nina’s “we’re just friends. actually we’re not friends. we barely know each other.” the same thing Aziraphale said in season 1.  the way he still struggles to quantify their friendship when Nina asks. Nina’s sarcasm when Crowley asks about rain and awnings because it worked for him (we all know it LMAO). hell, that whole convo the girls have in the rain is so AziraCrow (“I know. I’m not your type” “...You have no idea” hits so much harder the second time, help meeeee.) “Lindsay” maybe being symbolic of Heaven and Aziraphale’s toxic relationship with them and their abuse? (the handwritten text messages in red pen make me think of angry notes on paperwork, anyone else?) because Crowley has never actually cared about what Hell thinks of him, just not getting into trouble (or him or Aziraphale getting hurt). Maggie is always chasing Nina. NINA NEVER GOES IN THE RECORD STORE. Just like Crowley always goes to the bookstore, to Aziraphale, Zira NEVER WENT TO THE FLAT (apart from The Swap but that doesn’t count imo). Crowley has always chased Zira, not the other way around. Always there to rescue him, always going to him for company, always relying on their shared connection, always US. OUR SIDE. All through season one, he comes to Zira every time to work together, never trying to work alongside Hell in any way that isn’t to save their skins or Earth, while Zira hides things from Crowley because he STILL thinks Heaven is ultimately good and will do the right thing if he can just show them. fix it from the inside. 

Maggie working up the courage to finally say something, to put herself out there, while Nina is utterly oblivious and then when she does realise Maggie has feelings, becoming standoffish, putting up that barrier, fighting it, denying it, ITS SO CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT ORDER. the way I was fooled into thinking Nina’s trust issues are Crowley because he does have trust issues ofc he does BUT Crowley has ALWAYS TRUSTED AZIRAPHALE. has always relied on him. has always been hurt when Aziraphale doesn’t immediately reciprocate the way he expects (the holy water request, the bandstand, the “off in the stars” etc). he’s always the one putting himself forward. Aziraphale has always been the one to second guess everything, to fight their connection, their similarities, their friendship. the girls really made me think it was going to be okay when they sat Crowley down, even as my inner sirens were going haywire about Metatron interfering, they were telling Crowley he just needs to open up and it’ll all work out BUT HE’S ALREADY AT THAT POINT. he may not say it, and by gosh is that part of their damn problem, but he’s always SHOWN IT. he’s not Nina who needs time to heal and recover from her broken trust, he’s always been Maggie believing it doesn’t matter, they’ll end up together in the end anyway AND I WALKED RIGHT INTO THE TRAP THAT THIS MEANT THEY WERE GOING TO BE OKAYYYYYYYYYYY

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 #GO2 #GO2 spoilers #ineffable husbands #not me going to my basically unused sideblog that isn't GO related because I NEED TO YELL THIS SOMEWHERE #I mean outside of the relationship thing there are so many ways #that Nina and Crowley line up and Zira and Maggie #but the girls story isn't about them as people #it's about this relationship the boys are tryna push on them and what that relationship reflects about the boys #anyway I'm on my first rewatch for all the clue I missed #so I imagine I'll only spot more clues to berate myself about as I go #HOW DID I FALL FOR ITTTTTT #I can't believe I was so blind #OFC the Disaster Puppy Lesbian was Crowley #and OFC the Emotionally Abused Tortoise was Aziraphale