#but for now I'm okay with just throwing this post into the void and not thinking about it again for a while

[elshells]

I'm in a weird predicament with one of my WIPs.

It's not something I've shared on Tumblr (or anywhere else, for that matter). There's not much to share at the moment anyway, just a few pages of a very rough draft. In such early stages I don't want to say too much, except that it's a psychological horror novel and one of the top contenders for being my debut when I finally publish mainstream.

The characters and plot have been living in my head for quite a while, in a way that's different than some of my other WIPs. You see, writing this story will be both cathartic and vulnerable for me. I'll have to expose my ugliest inner thoughts to all of my readers in a grand effort to cut out the worst parts of myself. Like a weird ritual of healing, coping, and therapy all rolled into one, if that makes sense.

In short, I will not be portraying myself in a flattering light. But that's not what's stopping me.

This past year and a half or so has been... weirdly emotional for me. Lots of cloud nines and rock bottoms. I've struggled with (and continue to struggle with) broken trust, loss of loved ones, heartbreak, envy, regret, uncertainty of the future and of my place in the world—all themes that are essentially the pillars of this WIP I'm talking about now. And because of this, I fear that the subject matter, which was already personal, has become too personal. Too close to my heart and mind.

Maybe these intense, tumultuous moments will eventually die down. Or maybe they won't. But either way, eventually this is a story I want to share. I think it's the only way I'll be satisfied.

And now I'm thinking about all the people in my life who might read this. And yes, there's always a level of anxiety in sharing your writing with someone you love and trust. But what I'm feeling isn't anxiety—it's fear. Because if I share this story with the most important people in my life, there's a good chance that they'll recognize themselves in it. Not because I've painted them in a negative light, but because they're so interwoven with who I am that they'll be seeing a part of me that I always keep buried. They'll see all the dark thoughts that I try to filter out, that I try to leave unspoken—except now it's all on display for them. And it feels cowardly that I couldn't say any of it out loud, or put it to rest in utter silence. It feels like I would be forming rifts, burning bridges between myself and others.

I would be destroying something sacred. And the last thing I want to do is hurt the people I love.

I don't know if venting about it online is gonna help anything. I don't even know if I even want advice. I'm just scared to write this story that, for so long, I've built into my road for self-acceptance.

I know without context it all sounds cryptic, and I promise it's not as deep as it feels at 1AM. But at this point I'm sure you've heard of the mortifying ordeal of being known. And of the importance of 'doing it scared.' There's truth to both, and they've never conflicted with me before. But for the first time, I'm genuinely scared to write something I feel in my bones needs to be written.

And I don't know if that means I need to back off until I calm down, or charge full speed ahead.

[libraford]

Okay!

So plastics! I took a deep dive into recycling HDPE plastics this winter because my seasonal job at the parks ended and because I knew there wasn't going to be much that I could do while I was recovering from surgery.

I'm going to talk about the process a little bit. Its not really a tutorial so much as it is just showing you the thing. The steps are uncomplicated, but they can be time consuming and there are MANY, with a high rate of failure. The good thing about the failure rate is that if you screw something up you can just melt it back down and try again.

I have been jokingly calling the processed material Amirite because once you melt it down enough times it looks like an agate. I made a separate blog about it: @adventures-in-amirite

But this process actually starts WAY back in June. As a parks person, one of our main annoyances is the amount of bottles (water, gatorade, powerade, PRIME, BodyArmor... whatever the Big American Energy Drink is right now) that get left overnight on weekends from people playing sports in our fields. 178 trash public trash cans in the city and they just leave them on the fucking ground.

When something unavoidable annoys me, I make it into a game. I learned that bottle caps are made from HDPE and LDPE plastics, which can be melted over and over again with household heating implements. So I started collecting them!

And I collected well over 300 caps over the summer. When I say it was a PROBLEM.

My seasonal job ended, which freed up a lot of time for me to experiment.

First thing I had to do was clean them.

Soak it in a mix of white vinegar and water or soap and water. Rinse, use a pressure setting on your faucet if you have one. Then let dry.

The next step is to sort all the caps into similar colors. After they're sorted, I melt all the similar colors together into a flat sheet using a panini press and parchment paper. My goal is to get the material thin enough to put it through a guitar pick punch. I like the shape of guitar picks.

I am doing it this way because this means that I can have usable thin blanks of pure color.

Any scraps smaller than the guitar pick are cut up and sorted by color into 'frit,' which is a word I'm stealing from glassworking.

Now here is where it gets fun.

I pick some colors I want to work with in both frit and guitar pick blanks and I throw them on the press to melt them together into a big multicolored slab.

Let it cool.

Here's the high failure rate part.

I put down a silicone mold. I put the colored slab on top. I put parchment paper on top. I put it in the press. I let it melt.

I try to flatten it as much as possible to fit the mold. Use a bottle, a rolling pin, a spatula.

I still get bubbles and voids when I demold. I've decided to embrace that and use rub n buff to make fill the voids with metallic colors. Still working through the kinks in the process, but I think these look cool enough.

All the scraps go back into the bin to be re-processed. It makes a kind of agate texture that's really cool, and that's what I used in that last photo.

Anyways! Applications are limited but I'm having fun experimenting with it. Hoping to approach some shops about it and sell a few, maybe do some shows this summer.

Anyways, that's how my post-op has been going.

[steviewashere]

What is a Heart Worth if It's Just Left All Alone?

Rating: General CWs: None! Tags: Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, POV Outsider, Switching POV, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Breakup (Brief), Getting Back Together, Love Confessions, Dialogue Heavy, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson Being a Voice of Reason, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Have a Brotherly Friendship, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues Wrote this all on Tumblr this morning literally in an hour. Hope it's good! Title from "Questions" by Jack Johnson

💕—————💕 Steve and Eddie are seen always sitting next to each other. At first, when they were just friends, it was nothing more than just an Oh, hey, this seat is empty, mind if I sit down? Now that they're several months deep into dating, it's as if they'll evaporate without the other right by their side.

Movie nights? Cuddling together. BBQ at the Byers-Hopper house? Thigh to thigh, eating off the same plate. All the seats full? A lap is now a seat.

They hold hands; Steve sometimes spinning Eddie's rings, Eddie popping Steve's tense knuckles. Arms slung over shoulders. Ankles looped around each other. Again, food shared between plates, forks, and fingers. Petting hair, twirling strands, braiding chunks. Murmured compliments and whispered questions and smiley answers. Commentary about the show or the movie or the commercial. Naps intertwined, snuffling under the only throw blanket, craning their necks to watch over each other.

It's sick.

It's sweet.

Nobody's seen them as happy as they are than when they're with each other. If they don't spend at least five of seven days in a week together, then they pout and groan and those arbitrary questions come popping back up—"Is he okay? Did I go too far with something? Why isn't he seeing me right now?" Long gaps between dates means reunions as if the world is still ending; long winded hugs and smiles too big for their faces and hushed words nobody knows how to pick up. Sometimes a kiss...or two...or three.

And then, out of nowhere, Steve and Eddie stop.

Stop hanging out. Stop talking to each other. Stop being in the same room, on the same couch, in the same conversation.

It's weird.

"We broke up," Steve says in this quiet, dismissive way. Utterly void and somehow completely flimsy. He shrugs at Dustin's confused, questioning look. "I'm fine. Eddie's fine. It was...it was mutual. Don't worry."

Don't worry?

That's all Dustin's doing now!

In what world do Steve and Eddie—or better yet, SteveandEddie—just up and leave one another's lives? Sure, the affection they put out sometimes interrupted everything else going on around it. And yeah, if he had to see basically his two older brothers mack it one more time, Dustin was going to ralph—and not in that homophobic, Billy Hargrove/Jason Carver/Troy Walsh way. But because it was always so graphic and noisy and full of pure love that Dustin had nothing else to do but look away. He had to for his own sanity!

But now it's just...gone? All of it?

The gentle, teasing remarks. The warm, sleepy, early morning laughter that followed an all group sleepover. Arcade visits where the two were fighting over the same cabinet. No more bickering over the radio station, swapping sunglasses, turning down the volume if Steve had those early telltale signs of a migraine. Goodbye coffee runs and BBQ plate sharing and grabbing the other's favorite at a convenience store—just because.

"What do you mean you guys broke up?" Dustin squawks. "What the—How in the—Just like that?! What the hell even happened? You guys were perfect for each other!"

Because, yeah, as much as he'd been cheering for the whole SteveandRobin of it all...he has eyes. He's got eyes all over his head, blinking, gazing right into the sun that is Steve and Eddie's megawatt, shiny, beautiful relationship. They're an endgame telenova couple, and Dustin just sat down with his bowl of popcorn! No way is he letting these kernels go stale.

Steve shrugs dismissively—again. He's gripping his steering wheel tight, though. And his sunglasses are sitting low enough on his nose to unsheathe his shiny, sad eyes. Dustin's a fool, but he's not a moron. These are the telltale signs of heartbreak—and yikes does Steve wear it all well...too well.

"I don't know what to tell you, Dusty. Some things just don't work out. No matter how good they were going." He flicks his turn signal to flash left, right towards Forest Hill. Right towards doom, it seems like. "We were just...we were too different, dude."

"Oh, no fucking way!" Dustin roars.

Steve brings his right hand to his ear, tweaking it. "Lang"—

"Are you intentionally being stupid or something?" he asks rhetorically. Slamming out his hands when Steve begins to answer. "Don't—Just...where the hell did you get an idea like that, man? So you don't enjoy playing some D&D like Eddie does—who actually cares? I get it now, dude, not your thing. Not your ala mode, whatever. And you listen to more radio hit, poppy songs than he does. And maybe you don't read as many novels as he does"—

"Y'know, you're kinda proving the point"—

"Ah! No! Shut up, will you? Just fuckin' slam the breaks for a minute, 'cause I'm not done." Dustin tosses his hands back to his lap, slapping them down with firm smacks. He guffaws, stuttering over the same incomprehensible, unintelligible noises of disbelief. "You guys just got each other in a way that I haven't seen out of anybody in my entire life. It's like you guys have met before, but like...like lifetimes ago. Like you've lived somewhere in the universe simultaneously in alternate timelines over and over and over again. Some real sort of Twilight Zone kind of shit.

"Who cares if you guys have different tastes? We have different tastes, don't we? You like raucous comedy videos and I'm a big sci-fi fantasy nerd in ways you don't get—and that's fine! That's completely fine!

"If you were just like Eddie—or, to take it back to me—if you were just like me, you'd be so insanely boring. No offense, but you would be. God, our conversations would just run dry.

"Some of my favorite things I'd see between you and Eddie were these just purely, like, inquisitive conversations, y'know? Where Eddie'd be complaining about some far away Lord of the Rings lore bullshit and you'd be asking all the questions. Like...like that one time you asked why Bilbo and all the other dudes didn't just take the giant eagles to Mordor! What an entertaining conversation that was. But if you knew the answer already, then why would you ever want to have a conversation about something you already know? Why would you ever want to talk to Eddie about anything fantasy wise? You'd just bore each other out!

"Or...or the whole music taste thing, right? Metal stuff gives you migraines"—

"I mean...it doesn't always give me migraines...it just gets too loud and then"—

"Okay, so it's a trigger," Dustin says flippantly, tossing up his hand. "Got it. Yeah. But the thing is, Steve, that became an obvious thing of importance to Eddie. He played his music, but he played it quieter when you were around. And...and, yeah, okay, he didn't always enjoy the pop songs—the exact same way you didn't enjoy the way Iron Maiden sounded...again, that's okay!

"The fact that you guys were willing to indulge each other, though, that's pretty big. Eddie listened to what you had to say about your favorite Madonna song. He loves hearing you talk about your music, the same way your face visibly lights up when Eddie talks about his. He wants to know you.

"Eddie wants you to be different from him. He wants to know your perspective on things, don't you get it? He wants to have somebody that'll bounce right off of him and give him something to deeply think about. He needs a person who's going to shoot him down on his stupidest shit, but he needs a person who's also going to respect him.

"Just like you do," Dustin murmurs carefully. "You used to tell me that the key to getting a girl to like you is to act like you don't care. Or to be flippant. Or to just...just go along with it. Which, yeah, pretty stupid advice, if I'm being honest.

"Something, like, visibly shines from inside you when you find yourself caring. And I think what you've been looking for all these years is a person who is not you. Or, better yet, somebody who shows up for you—in ways, maybe, a person hasn't before.

"Eddie cares about you, Steve, in ways I've never seen him care about anybody. Especially somebody who aligns with all his Munson doctrine horseshit that he's been carrying around like a fucking cement block. You align with it, maybe, but the way you show up for him is important, too. You disprove everything he's previously believed about people like you. He needed that wake up call.

"And now that he's awake, man, I don't think he's gonna want to go back to sleep." The sign at the entrance of Forest Hills is a few feet ahead, right inside his peripheral. For some reason, Steve is slowing down instead of speeding up. And Dustin feels like he's giving a debate team speech—Jesus. "I don't think you should let go of this, Steve. This relationship is right. For him...for you.

"What's the real reason you guys broke up? And don't give me the bullshit of him being too different from you. That's not true and you know it."

They could just speed right into Forest Hills. He could be dropped off. The BMW could sputter dust right in his face and leave a trail as Steve speeds back down the road, away from the trailers and the chain fence and the orange couch on the Munson porch. Instead, though, he pulls off to the side of the road.

Steve parks. Rips his sunglasses right off his face. And—for the first time ever—Dustin sees tears pour right down Steve's cheeks. He doesn't even wipe them away, just rubs the snotty tip of his nose against his Members Only jacket, and sighs.

"When'd you start giving relationship advice?" Steve crackles like he's trying for a joke. He even huffs a senseless chuckle. Eyes still wet. Cheeks ruddy pink and white. "You're gonna hate me," he mutters.

Firmly, "No, I'm not, Steve. Just be honest with me."

"I was the one who broke up with Eddie, okay?"

Dustin blinks, cowed. "What? Why?"

Steve shrugs, this time helplessly. Aimlessly. Scared. "Thought that, um...um, that he'd see that I'm not the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Not that—I mean, we're barely in our twenties, y'know?

"And I know, okay, I know that I'm not everybody's favorite person. No matter how much of my ego tries to blow smoke up my own ass. He's just...Eddie's brilliant in ways I've never faced before—out of partners, at least. He's, uh, intelligent and so...so fucking funny and just overall a very beautiful person. Looks and smarts and whatever other shit spreads between all that.

"I'm just..."—Steve stops to take a heaving, stuttering deep breath—"...just sorta the placeholder, I guess? I feel like, one day, Eddie's going to see me for the person he didn't expect and he's going to realize how little of me he actually loves and cares for. And I just...I don't know, man. I don't know where I'm going with this! I know that I'm basically talking myself into and endless fucking spiral and that I broke up with him for a very, very stupid reason, but I...

"I'm scared he's going to stop loving me, Dustin." Steve looks him dead on now. Swollen eyes and puffy cheeks and quivering bottom lip. Broken and splintering all at the same time. "I thought"—another stuttering, nasally breath; it chokes out at the end, teetering on a sob—"I thought that if I broke things off, then he wouldn't have to waste his time with loving me, but also...also to stop loving me. Does that even make sense? I know I'm being fucking irrational. And—What I did was pointless and cruel and stupid of me, okay? It's stupid!

"Eddie's probably way worse off compared to me. And here I fucking am, sobbing in my car to some fifteen year old kid as if I'm not the literal monster in the scenario." Steve scoffs to himself, rolls his eyes, faces towards the windshield again. "And now Eddie probably actually fucking hates my guts. He's probably...probably grateful that I ended things and showed my true clashing colors. Proved him and his dumb fuckin' doctrine right. I'm an asshole. That's all I'll ever be. King fucking Steve, a walking, talking, gaping asshole." He sniffs, rubs his wet nose against his jacket again, and scoffs at himself once more in utter disgust. "I mean, like, who does this shit, right? Who looks at the person they love the most in the world and decides—oh, look at me and my big, stupid self imposed hate. Better break up with my doting, loving, patient partner to make things not as bad. Look at me, Mr. Righteous doing the selfless thing! Who am I kidding, though?

"I'm so fucking selfish. And the only person who's actually hurt is Eddie. And I didn't even get to tell him that I do love him. I do, I really, really love Eddie.

"Didn't even give our relationship enough time for us to say that to each other." He scrubs his hands over his face, squishing his eyeballs with audible, wet squelches. Steve sighs around a humorless laugh. "I have to apologize," he decides aloud—said so low, Dustin's not even sure if he was supposed to hear it. "But if I apologize and Eddie asks for the reason, then what? I gotta be honest, right? But then, what, make myself look like a victim? I broke my own stupid heart. Squished it under my shoe and everything." He shakes his head. Clicks his tongue. Chuckles dry again. "But Eddie likes honesty, I guess. So...so I guess I have to be. He's gonna be so mad at me, isn't he?"

Dustin blinks again. Takes a deep breath. Flounders for a beat, then two. "That's...I don't know, Steve," he speaks carefully, "I mean...dude, that was a lot to process? I think you should apologize, for sure. If Eddie asks for honesty, though...If Eddie asks for honesty, I think he deserves to hear the truth.

"He'll probably be a lot upset, I can't tell you that he won't be. But I think...I think if you consider the fact that this is Eddie we're talking about, then there's always going to be room for compassion, maybe even some forgiveness. Eddie can be an asshole, but he's not cruel. And he can be mad, but he's not going to stomp you our for having insecurities." Dustin swallows, it clicks against the back of his throat. Then, "That's what that whole thing was, by the way. A lot of insecurities that, I gotta be honest, Steve, that need to be mended, man. You're walking around with a lot of heavy baggage and I think it's time to let some of it go."

Steve nods, slowly wiping the tear tracks away from his face. "I know," he croaks. "I know, I just..."—again, helplessly, Steve shrugs—"...I didn't think I was this bad."

"You're not bad," Dustin remarks quietly. "You're not cruel and you're not an asshole. Steve, you just...you're a good person who happens to have been seriously hurt before. Of course you're going to be scared of being hurt again.

"Sometimes heart talks over logic. And that's what happened. You got scared, so you backed away the only way your heart told you to. The whole...the whole messy aftermath is logic finally catching up.

"It doesn't feel good, I bet. But it doesn't make you a bad person for realizing you've made a mistake."

"Pretty fucking explosive mistake, isn't it?"

Dustin sighs. "Yeah," he says, "yeah, pretty explosive. But that's okay, Steve. You realize that, right? It's okay that you said some things and now you're learning from them?

"It's just like when you made that joke to me about punching out my teeth, dude. And then you caught what you said. And you walked it back. And you apologized.

"You put your foot, like, pretty firmly in your mouth, sure. Doesn't mean you can't dislodge it or something, right? Everybody does something that they aren't proud of. And that something comes with consequences.

"You're going to be okay, dude. No matter what happens. Eddie may not immediately forgive you. And you guys probably won't go back to being as all over each other as you were before. But that's okay. Time heals all wounds or whatever bullshit that saying is." Steve laughs at that, finally humorous and loud. "Also, gotta say, it's kind of fucking crazy that I'm the voice of reason right now. You realize that, right? I'm fifteen and obnoxious and somehow, I'm giving you the best advice in the whole universe."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright. Don't go blowing smoke up your own ass, you butthead. But, uh...you're reasonable right now. So I guess I should listen to you."

"You guess? Just take the advice, you asshat! When we get to Eddie's, I want you to apologize to him and see what happens." When he doesn't get a response, Dustin sighs. "Seriously," he says, no longer teasing, "I'm going to go inside Eddie's and send him right out to you. You don't have to give, like, a perfect apology. But just be honest with him, alright? You'll be fine. And so will he. At least try to get some words out, okay?"

They finally turn down the Forest Hills drive. Park right outside of Eddie's. Steve turns to him. "Send him out," he says, "I'm sorry, in advance, if this takes a while."

"If you guys take the rest of the day, I won't be mad. You, uh, you guys are actually perfect for each other. I was being honest about that." Before anything else can be said, Dustin runs right up to Eddie's door, enters without a knock, and prepares himself to sit on the couch for a little while.

——— Steve's still drying off his face and rubbing the visible sheen from his eyes when Eddie approaches him. The two of them standing a couple feet apart at the BMW's front bumper.

"Dustin said we had to talk," Eddie says flatly instead of greeting. "Is it as important as he made it sound?"

"Um"—Steve nods, shakes his head, nods again—"I wanted...to...apologize. For breaking things off the way I did."

Eddie loudly scoffs and huffs. "Oh, so you're sorry for breaking my heart? Gee, thanks, Harrington. Like that's going to make it all better."

The drying his cheeks was a dumb thing to do in hindsight. Tears come back to his eyes tenfold. He can't bring himself to look up at Eddie, even though the heartbreak is clear in his voice.

"I don't know...I don't know what to say," Steve admits. "Guess I should just start with, um, the fact that I didn't actually want to break up with you?"

"God, you are terrible at apologies, you know that? Is that supposed to make me want you back or something? That you didn't want to break my heart, just testing the waters? See how far you could stretch my care for you until being able to just burn it up?"

Steve shakes his head. "No, I—I ran away, okay? That was me running. We...we were getting really deep into everything. And I scared, like, stupidly scared. Because you care about me now, sure, but what about a couple years from now when I'm too much again or maybe, like, too shallow or I'm full of shit or"—he sighs and slouches against the hood of his car, face pointed down at the dirt under his shoes—"Fuck if I know if we'd even survive a few years, y'know? Who says we would? It's not like my other relationships lasted that long."

Eddie audibly shifts, but Steve still doesn't look up. "So...so breaking up with me was the only option? What happened to talking to me when you get in your own head, Steve? One of the main things in a relationship is communication. I can't help you if I don't know what I'm supposed to help with."

"That's the thing!" Steve huffs out. "Okay? I don't know how to talk about it without sounding like a complete fucking baby or something, I don't know!

"You know how many other people have looked at me and decided that I'm just not worth the time? That my interests and my hobbies and my affection—all of it, just none of it mattered! And I—Eddie, oh my god, Eddie I'm so stupidly in love with you, you have to believe me. But it's...it's just a matter of time, right?

"It's a matter of time until you look at me for who I am. Like, really, really look at me for who I am and you realize that I'm not who you actually want. I'm not interesting enough. I'm not caring enough. I'm not doting enough. That I'm just not enough or something, I don't know.

"And like...like I'm so in it with you. I could picture myself just years down the road, you right by my side at the dinner table. With...with our tape collection mixed up and toppling over, the fridge stocked with our favorite drinks, mugs stained with each other's coffee mess. I could see myself dedicating all of my time to you. Bending my life in all sorts of ways to accommodate you in it, to make sure there's always somewhere for you to breathe, for you to just exist, for you to just...just be there in it with me.

"I wanted a whole life with you. I still want that whole life with you. And I...I'm so stupid about all this because it's so obvious that you care about me and that you want me, but for some reason I just led myself to believe that at some point, it would all go away. That, for some reason, you would just stop.

"And I didn't want you to stop wanting me. Because I don't want to stop wanting you. Because my bed is better with you. And my arms are meant for you and my whole—Everything! Everything I have is meant to be shared with you, just you, Eds.

"But you...you have so much ahead of you and I don't know...maybe I'm just not supposed to be in it? I feel like I'm picturing too much. Or maybe I'm just getting too ahead of myself. We were only eight months into it, but if I had the money, Eds, I'd get all the moments right to put myself on one knee. And that...that scares me, too. How much I want you." Steve tries for a deep breath, but this time—this time—it sputters out of him as a sob. A wet, scratchy, painful sob. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Eds. I'm so sorry that I couldn't see past myself. I'm so fucking sorry that I tanked everything because I can't seem to get over everything else. I'm sorry, Eds, I'm so"—

"Stop," Eddie chokes out. He sniffles. Steve finally looks up, blurred vision and all, to try and clue out what emotion is flickering over Eddie's face. No dice. "I need you to stop, Steve. Just...just give me a second."

So he does. He sits on the hood of his car, looking down at the dirt again, trying to reign himself back in. It doesn't work. But he does quiet down. Enough to hear the stuttering of Eddie's own breath, which he seems to be trying to get under control, too.

Finally, Eddie croaks, "I'm hurt."

"I'm"—

"No, Steve, stop. My turn to talk, okay?" He just nods at Eddie. Collecting himself again, Eddie takes a deep, steady breath. Softly, "I'm...I'm hurt that you think of me like that. Or that you led yourself to think that. Because it's just not true, Steve. Not at all. Y'know how bad it's been to not have you around me?

"It's been awful, Steve. I think about calling you at least twenty times a day. To tell you about the stupid mundane things I did. Like what I ate for breakfast or what show I caught late last night or the best pop song I heard in the day. Because I love talking to you.

"I love your warmth, how you press right up next to me. I love your snoring when we're napping. I love the way you ask so many questions, the way you make me stop and think, the way you want to know more, or even when you want to know less. I love the way you guide your fork to my lips when you want me to try something from the absolute mountain of food we're sharing. I love your hand in mine. I love just...

"Steve, I love you." He catches himself whimpering around a sob, but it goes unnoticed right now by Eddie. Who steps closer. So close, the toes of their shoes clunking against each other. Eddie reaches out his hands and holds Steve's head up, palms on either cheek. The both of them crying. "And you tried to tell me that we should see other people. Because we're different, but then also we're too young, but then also this and that—It hurt so bad, to watch you visibly shrink away, disappear right out of the room.

"And baby, oh, baby—I'm obtuse sometimes, but I'm not stupid and neither are you. You aren't. But everything you said carried itself as these big, flashing neon signs of I'm not okay, something's wrong. You tried to trick me against it, but I could tell you were talking yourself into dumb, dumb circles.

"Do you not trust me?" Eddie asks carefully, "is that what happened? Did I do something to make you think that I was going to stop loving you?"

Steve shakes his head however much he can. Tries to swallow his tears, but to no avail. His words come out half-garbled. "No, I'm sorry."

Eddie tsks. "Stop apologizing," he whispers, "I want you to be honest with me, okay? Is there something I did?"

"No," he murmurs, "I just got too caught up."

"Too caught up in love?"

Steve shrugs. "In myself. Like...like maybe I was too many steps ahead. It felt like, sometimes, that maybe—But that's not fair to you because I just am hopeless, y'know. That's not on you. I don't know why I got so in my head."

"What's not fair to me, Steve? Please just tell me," Eddie presses.

Bursting, "It just felt like maybe you weren't on the same level or step as me, okay? Like I was letting myself get too ahead, too involved, too head first. And that's when I get to be too much. And that's when my partner usually pulls away. And I act like I'm blindsided, but it happens every time, Eddie!" Steve huffs, tries to shrug away, but Eddie only holds on tighter. "I just...I just didn't know, okay? I didn't know that you actually loved me. Which is stupid of me to think because, like, it was always so clear, now that I'm thinking about it. You care for me in ways nobody has. And even Dustin fucking saw it!

"I don't even know what I'm trying to say! That's how dumb this whole breakup thing was on my end. I don't have a real reason, okay? I just got too ahead of myself, I guess. And at the same time, I guess I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it does. It drops at some point."

Eddie tenderly wipes at Steve's cheeks. Drying his tears. Steve feels bad about it, that he hasn't even tried to reach out and do the same. But, selfish as it is, he soaks it all up anyway.

It may be the last time he gets it.

"Steve," Eddie whispers—even his voice is tender—"I have to be honest, it makes me sad to hear that you think of yourself...of our relationship like that. But I promise you that the other shoe was never going to drop."

"Eds, how am I supposed to believe that? Be real with me."

Eddie firmly grabs Steve's face. Holds them steady. "Look at me." He does. "I am so deeply, incredibly, and passionately in love with you. And I was a fool to not tell you before, but that's not your fault. We're both young and scared and want a lot, we both let that get in the way of things. And we didn't talk like this. But. Keep looking at me." Steve sniffs, but, again, he does what he's told. "I love you, Steve."

Steve sniffles again, tries to blink the tears out of his eyes—and he's crying all over again. "I love you, too, Eds," he mutters, nearly inaudible.

"Hey, Steve?"

"Hm?"

Whispering again, "I love you a crazy lot. I love you, I love you, I love you." Eddie gives him a small smile. "We were missing that, huh? You just needed to hear that."

"Eds," he sighs. Shakes his head to try and dislodge the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I am."

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, "I know, sweetheart. And...and I forgive you, even if maybe I'm jumping the gun on that. But I know I'm going to forgive you eventually. I love you too much to let you go."

"You should take your time"—

"I am in love with you. And I accept all ten trillion of your apologies that you're trying to queue up, okay? We are both damaged goods, in a lot—and I mean a lot—of ways. It doesn't feel right to me to put us in a place where we're walking on eggshells, waiting.

"I forgive you. And I love you. So endlessly." Eddie swipes his hands over either side of Steve's head, brushing hair behind his ears. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that I didn't make it clear how deep in this I am with you. In case it's still not clear, if you propose to me tomorrow, I'm going to say yes."

Steve chuckles. "That's ridiculous."

"The right kind of ridiculous for us, though." Brushing through Steve's hair again, Eddie sighs. "I wish you would've told me how you were feeling, though," he whispers, "that way we could've avoided any sort of mess."

"I'll get better at talking," Steve swears. "I'm bad at it. I don't want to be bad at it. Not with you."

"We'll both get better at it, how about that?" Eddie smiles small again, tenderly caressing Steve's head. He leans it, slow and careful, and plants a gentle kiss against Steve's lips. "You're too important to just let go. I love you from here to our neighboring galaxy and back."

"I love you, too, Eds. God, I love you so much. That feels incredible to say."

Eddie pecks him again. Murmuring against Steve's lips, "Do you wanna come in and watch a movie with Dustin and I? I want your questions and commentary."

"That's gonna be annoying, though."

"Come inside and be annoying, then. I've got your Pringles in the snack cupboard and your root beer on standby. Some cuddles and kisses in there, too."

Steve smiles, can feel the way it crinkles the tip of his nose. As if he can't resist, Eddie smacks another kiss, yet to Steve's nose this time. "I'll give you all the makeup cuddles in the world, Eds. Hold my hand the entire time, though?"

"And let 'em get all sweaty and gross? Hell yeah, baby. All the hand holding for you."

They've got a little ways to go, more potholes to pave, but it feels better to do it side by side, thigh warm against thigh, every question answered, and both hands held.

💕—————💕

[100vern]

the great british fake-off | xmh

you thought the guy in the hawaiian-print shirt who seems physically incapable of being quiet would be the most annoying person here, so imagine your shock when it's xu minghao, who has seemingly decided you're the enemy and keeps sabotaging you. a baking competition for charity might have others on their best behavior, but what's a little sugar without some spice?

❆ pairing: minghao x reader ❆ genre: great british bake-off, holiday au; crack, fluff ❆ wordcount: 5.5k ❆ rating: e for everyone ❆ warnings: some swearing, minghao is a saboteur, idiots abound. ❆ credits: this netflix psd template for the banner. this recipe for the yule log; this recipe for the gingerbread house; and this recipe for the entremet. divider from here. this post for the divider. this was roughly edited by me, so any and all mistakes are my own. ❆ written for: the winter with you collab hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories as they're posted. ♡ ❆ author's note: i had this rotting away in my wips since literally 2021, so even though it started as a completely different story, i'm so glad it's finally seeing the light of day even if it's not what i originally intended. (also, i know the banner says 12 contestants but the holiday specials only had a couple, okay. i forgot when i made it and i wasn't going back to fix it.)

The obnoxious one is wearing an aloha-print shirt.

He’s also extremely loud, his raucous, fake laughter filling every corner of the large warehouse you’ve been assigned to for filming. Makes a show of batting his eyelashes, throwing his head back every time someone cracks a joke that’s not even funny, comes up with nonsensical nicknames for the entire crew just to suck up to them.

“John Davies? Mind if I call you Joe?”

Joe doesn’t even make sense as a nickname for John, but John fucking loves it, apparently. Looks at the annoying guy like he just watched him string the stars in the sky.

But it’s the shirt—god, the shirt drives you absolutely crazy. He’s about to go on national television, be a household name, and some ill-fitting, charity shop Hawaiian print shirt is what he woke up and chose to wear. What’s his angle here? Appeal to the public with some sob story about only being able to afford second-hand clothes so that’s why he’s competing? Needs the money to care for a sick relative?

(The expensive watch on his wrist and his limited-drop sneakers tell an entirely different story, but you’re keeping that to yourself for now. No reason to play your hand so early.)

As much as you hate the shirt, you have to admit it suits him. The colors are garish and unsightly, just as obnoxious as he is, and you can’t stare at it too long because you start going cross-eyed. Looking at him feels about the same as stuffing your mouth with a bunch of sour candies: you get that same burn in the back of your jaw, same scrunched-up, grossed-out look on your face; have to squeeze your eyes shut to blink back tears.

You don’t even know his name, but you hate him immediately.

Your eyes scan the other contestants. None of them inspire the same level of animosity within you as the annoying one does; all of them nearly unremarkable. A variety of ages, appearances, backgrounds. You hear one say they’re a retired investment banker. There’s an accountant, a teacher, a fucking aerospace engineer.

And then it’s his turn to introduce himself. He clears his throat, speaks with an easy, practiced confidence. Completely void of nerves. Makes eye contact with everyone in your conversation circle. Gesticulates wildly as he speaks, immediately endears everyone to him.

“I’m Tim,” he says, and you nearly recoil at how honeyed his voice is. “But you can call me Tim. I’m thirty-eight, originally from a small town. Work as a…”

You can barely stand to listen to it anymore, each “Nice to meet you, Tim!” like another punch to the gut. How can’t these people see right through him? How are they falling for his bullshit? You should’ve known. Producers always throw in at least one bomb to up the ratings—a secret millionaire, someone rude and confrontational, a flat-earther. Even if you’re competing in a charity baking competition, of all things, it’s still reality television at the end of the day.

Just because the bunch of you are going to spend the next few days creating confections out of sugar, spice, and everything nice, doesn’t mean you have to be part of that ‘everything.’

Tim thinks he’s got this in the bag. Thinks he’s going to show up and win easily, the rest of you be damned, and even if you are typically a very nice person, you’re also highly competitive. There’ll be no rolling over done by you, and if Tim wants to play dirty—

Game on.

As you introduce yourself, you feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. Probably because you don’t bother with the faux-humility the rest of the contestants have. Polite and charming but firm, just the way your mother had taught you. You’re not boisterous, don’t crack silly jokes to play up to the cameras the way Tim loves to do, and you know he’s scrutinizing you the way you’d done to him, trying to figure out your angle.

Well, joke’s on him—you don’t need one.

And you really, really hope it drives him crazy.

Except maybe the joke is on you, too, because you don’t account for Xu Minghao.

In true reality television fashion, the tent is boiling hot.

As if the universe itself had looked down on all of you and decided what you all needed was a heatwave uncharacteristic of this time of year, just to up the ante. Not even ten minutes in the tent and you’re all fanning yourselves and wafting air up your shirts. Which is great, really, because it isn’t like you need to use ovens or stand over hot burners. It’s not like you aren’t going to be soaking through your clothes with anxiety sweats, either! Sweat dripping off your brow into your eyes won’t matter because you don’t need to use them.

Everything’s going to be fine!

But everything is not fine. Not only has the universe gifted you with sweltering heat, it’s given you the work station directly next to Tim’s. You’ll have to feel his annoying, off-putting aura near you for the entire competition. There’s always the possibility of him bungling it and making an early exit, but you know that’s unlikely. Obnoxious he may be, you also know a strong opponent when you see one, and something tells you you’re going to be stuck with him for the long haul.

Think of the cats, you tell yourself. All of this is for the cats.

It’s not like you never would’ve returned here of your own volition. No, your first go-round with feel-good, competition-based reality television had gone fine. You hadn’t won, of course, because you wouldn’t be here again if you had, but you placed respectably in the top three. Became a fan favorite, too, which was arguably more lucrative than winning. People make a living on social media these days.

So, it’s not the competition itself that has you white-knuckled gripping onto the edge of your station. It’s the man at the one beside you, cracking all these stupid jokes about the weather and how it’s a horrible day for tempering chocolate, so he bets that’s going to be the first challenge!

You suck in a deep breath. Try to remember the breathing exercises from that one yoga class your sister had dragged you to. It had been about the same temperature then, too—well duh, it’s hot yoga, your sister had said, which was news to you, because you never would’ve signed up for something called hot yoga willingly. Still, you endured it, just like you’ll endure this, and a little sweat is not going to get in the way of you delivering a check to all those poor, sad cats without families.

“Psst, hey,” you hear from behind you. When you turn, a man is smirking at you as he finishes tying his apron around his waist—has to wrap the strings around twice, you notice, because only someone hand-picked by the gods themselves would have that shoulder-to-waist ratio.

You don’t really recognize him. Can’t recall his name or where he’s from; can’t remember what he mentioned doing for a living. Probably something artsy, if you had to guess—he definitely has the style and demeanor of a creative, with his trendy shag-mullet and the multicolored, glitter-y snowflakes decorating his nails.

You aren’t sure he introduced himself at all, but the confidence with which he holds himself—easy, like it’d take a national emergency to rattle him even a little—implies he doesn’t really have to. Most of the people here already know him, if you had to guess, and he gives the impression that he’s not fussed with impressing any of them.

If only Tim was so inclined.

You clear your throat, vaguely aware you need to respond. “Yeah?”

“Are you nervous?”

“Ah, I don’t think so? We’ve done this before, after all. We should be seasoned veterans by now.”

He smirks. “Should be,” he emphasizes. “Feels different when it’s for charity. Extra serious, you know?”

“Right,” you agree, taking a look around the tent. “Anything for the cats.”

There’s an immediate shift in the atmosphere. What was friendly and carefree is now tense; where a smile and a floral giggle sat on the man’s lips has been replaced with a crooked scowl. And it doesn’t make sense, all you’d done was agree with what he said, but then the producers are yelling something at the front of the tent, cameramen are rushing to their equipment, and a woman appears at your side and starts clipping equipment to your clothes, and there’s no time to question it. On your right, Tim’s laughing and joking around with some crew members like they’re old drinking buddies. It drives you nuts, has annoyance pricking at your skin, flushing your cheeks—

So much so that the woman at your side leans in and asks, “Should I get hair and makeup over here?”

“I—no, it’s fine.”

The unnecessary members of the production team scatter away after a loud countdown. Hair and makeup don’t come to wipe the sweat tracks from your skin. You already know Man Behind You is standing there looking perfect because he’s equally as attractive as he is mysterious. God truly has favorites, and this guy somehow made the top five.

You stare down at the instructions in front of you, confident in your ability to read but not so confident in your ability to make sense of any of it. And it’s your own recipe, which is the worst part. You’d typed this recipe yourself. These are your hand-written notes in the margins. You’ve conceptualized, tweaked, baked, and eaten this recipe more times than you can count, and now all you can do is thousand-yard-stare into the ether.

In the time since you were on the show, you’d somehow forgotten about the chaos. Not unlike that hormone women have that makes them forget about the pain and agony of childbirth, you reckon.

In addition to being one of the most bothersome people in history, Tim apparently doubles as a prophet.

Because it is a terrible day to temper chocolate, and you’ve got a bûche de Noël on the horizon that requires you to do so. You can pivot, maybe make some kind of buttercream, but a basic chocolate buttercream is not going to win you a world-renowned baking competition even if it is Swiss meringue. A child could make that.

You sigh. Push that wave of panic to the back of your mind. In a setting like this, you have approximately ten seconds to come up with a back-up plan and execute it and you wasted your time thinking, so you’re just going to have to temper the stupid chocolate and stick to your original plan. God, you have a headache.

But the show must go on, so you do too.

Step 1: Preheat the oven.

Easy enough. If nothing else, you can preheat an oven.

Step 2: Make the sponge.

Not as easy, but you’ve made so many sponge cakes throughout your life you could probably do it in your sleep. Whisk attachment on the stand mixer. Four eggs. Sugar meticulously weighed and added to the bowl. Sugar and eggs whisked together until the mixture is the color and consistency you’re looking for. Flour, cocoa powder, and salt sifted in. Metal spoon to fold it all together as delicately as possible. You won’t have a sponge cake if you beat all the air out of it, now will you?

“Good enough,” you mutter to yourself, staring down at the bowl.

At least you’d had the foresight to grease and line your baking tray, because the entire entourage arrives at your station just as you’re meant to be pouring the batter into it and sticking it in the oven.

“Ah, we meet again,” the group choruses, genuine smiles peeking through as if you’re old friends separated only by time and distance.

That’s the weird thing about being on television. For as long as you’re able, you exist within a microcosm of daily life. A world exists outside of your bubble, you know, but you don’t see much proof of it. All of your meals are eaten together; all of your conversations are had with one another. You share temporary living quarters and oftentimes too much of yourselves, and you’re thankful the show encourages teamwork and kindness because that’s the kind of thing that can grow sour if you leave it unchecked too long.

And then it just—ends.

Bubble burst, you all go back to your regular lives. You look back on that time fondly, but the friendships are thinned out by time and distance. Eventually it all starts to feel like a dream, except every now and then something breaks through the haze to remind you it actually happened: a stranger recognizing you at the store, a message on social media, the casting team contacting you to ask if you’d be interested in competing in a holiday special for charity.

“We certainly do,” you retort, smile matching everyone else’s.

All things considered, you are happy to be back. Even if the tent is crowded and far too warm, the atmosphere is unmatched, especially when it’s decorated for the holidays.

“What are you working on?”

You explain the general workings of your yule log: chocolate sponge, hazelnut liqueur cream filling, and chocolate icing to top it off. You aren’t sure how you’re going to decorate it yet—you’ll figure it out once you get there, depending on how much time you have—but you guarantee them it’ll look festive and professional.

Satisfied with your plan, they wish you luck and move on to the man behind you. It’s so great to see you again, Minghao, someone says, and you’re grateful they’ve spared you the embarrassment of having to ask for his name. It still doesn’t ring a bell, and you can’t recall what season he’d been on for the life of you, but he speaks with a patience and a gentleness that is so unlike Tim that you nearly drop to the floor in thanks.

But as the commotion of the tent reminds you, you don’t have time to waste thinking about Minghao. You’ve only been given an hour for your signature, and you’re going to need all sixty of those minutes if you have any hopes of presenting a finished product.

It doesn’t register at first.

It doesn’t register at second or third, either.

In fact, you’re sure you’re hallucinating when you open the oven door to pop the sponge inside and you aren’t hit with a blast of hot air. Room temperature. Perhaps a bit on the cooler side, if you’re being honest.

And that can’t be, because you know you preheat your oven. It was the first thing you did, because it’s always the first thing you do. It’s just… automatic, like opening your mouth to eat or washing between your toes in the shower. Instinctual. Not something that needs to even be considered, because it’s always the first thing you do.

No, this cannot be. Forgetting to preheat the oven is a rookie mistake and you’re not a rookie.

…Could it be?

Perhaps you were so caught up in the lights and buzz, the thrill of returning to the tent, that it had slipped your mind? Perhaps you’d pressed the wrong buttons and turned the wrong dials? While it’s not likely you’d somehow bumped into the oven and turned it off, nothing is impossible, so… maybe?

“Shit,” you hiss through your teeth. The producers are not going to be happy about your swearing. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Everything okay up there?” Minghao asks from behind you. When you turn, he’s got a flour-dusted towel thrown over his shoulder as he nurses a cup of tea, and his composure in the face of your hysteria has your head spinning.

Your mouth opens and closes like a goldfish. Minghao is drinking tea without a care in the world and your oven isn’t even halfway to the temperature you need. “I—yes? No? I don’t know. I could’ve sworn I preheated the oven, but—”

“Don’t panic,” he offers, his top lip catching on the rim of his mug. “You got this. Work on something else while you wait.”

Something else. Right, you can work on something else. Both the filling and the frosting still have to be made, and quick mental math tells you there should just be enough time to get everything done if you’re efficient. Of course, that’s a big if, but that’s why you’d chosen a yule log, after all: sponge cake doesn’t need that long to bake, and anything can happen (and go wrong) in this tent.

So, you get to work on something else. Measure out a sheet of parchment paper, dust it with cocoa powder, and set it to the side. Decide to get to work on the frosting, because if one thing has already gone wrong, you don’t trust the universe to let you temper chocolate correctly.

The chocolate is halfway melted when the oven dings. A small harrumph of victory and you’re finally good to go, setting a timer for twelve minutes. Minghao offers you a discreet thumbs-up, fingers covered in something sticky you assume is marzipan.

Time flies after that. You get both the frosting and your filling made, and it’s only through divine intervention that your sponge cake comes out perfectly and with enough time to score and cool. When you dare a look around the room, everyone seems to be in a similar position as you: frazzled and covered in powdered sugar, making frantic trips to and from the refrigerators, chucking seized-up caramel into the trash and starting over for the third time with a pained expression.

A holiday special—it was supposed to be more laid-back, more for the vibes and festivity than actual competition, but it looks to you like everyone’s taking it just as seriously as your first go-rounds.

“Fifteen minutes!” someone calls, and your competitors fade out of focus. You’ve got a yule log to ice and fondant to roll out.

You make it by the skin of your teeth.

It isn’t perfect, of course, as few things on this show ever are, but it’s more than acceptable. It looks great and tastes even better which is all you can hope for. Much to your dismay, Tim also gets top marks, but it’s Minghao that shocks you all. His stollen wreath earns him a handshake and a lot of clandestine, private glares, but he’d been kind to you earlier, helped untangle that knot of pandemonium, so you return the thumbs-up he’d given you earlier with a smile that feels akin to getting away with murder.

Something is wrong.

On its own, this is not necessarily surprising. Gingerbread, tasked with bearing the weight of an entire house, can be fickle. On any other day you wouldn’t blame it if it wanted to rebel and go sideways, but the thing is—you’ve made gingerbread before. Tons of times. Another thing you could probably make in your sleep if you absolutely had to. So it doesn’t make sense when you look down in your mixing bowl and it just… doesn’t look right.

You tell yourself it’ll get better when you knead it. Maybe the color just looks off because it’s underworked, and a few good punches will set it straight.

But it doesn’t. The dough sits at your station like a sad, formless lump, giving you no indication it intends to become anything at all. Which is, admittedly, a problem. Your technical challenge is to build a gingerbread house—one complete with little windows and golden-toned nightlights, a scalloped roof dusted with powdered sugar to look like fresh snow, a working door!—and you’re far from an engineer, but you don’t think you can have a gingerbread house without gingerbread.

You sneak a peek at Tim’s station, where he’s well into measuring an immaculate-looking dough with a ruler. The contestant in front of you is in a similar place, too, so it’s with an oh fuck I’m doomed sigh that you turn around and hope to find a comrade in Minghao again.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying not to draw attention to yourself. “Does this look right to you?” You jerk a thumb in the direction of your dough-lump. Minghao, bless him, looks around you and tries his best to hide his grimace.

He does not succeed.

“Um. Well, no.”

You sigh. Place one flour-dusted hand on your waist and pinch the bridge of your nose with the other. “I can’t figure out what’s wrong with it. I’ve made gingerbread a million times.”

“Looks pale,” he offers. Of course, this is the exact moment he dumps his own dough—his beautiful dough, flawless chestnut brown—onto his station to knead it. “Was the sugar right?”

A strangled, disbelieving laugh escapes you. Was the sugar right—of course the sugar was right! Dark muscovado sugar. Everyone knows that's what you use for gingerbread, so of course the sugar was right because no one, both in their right mind and at this stage of competition, would use anything else.

Before you can respond, Minghao’s pointing at your jar of sugar. Your jar of pale, producer-supplied sugar, which even a blind person could tell does not resemble dark muscovado sugar.

A million thoughts race through your head at once, but it boils down to instinct, you think. Your brain had seen flour, butter, and sugar and went into baking mode, not stopping to take in the color of anything. Maybe a smarter, more perceptive person would put two and two together and get sabotage, but you don’t have enough time to play detective.

“Here, here,” Minghao says, hurriedly handing over his (correct) sugar. “It’ll be close, but you should have just enough time to redo the dough.”

You’re going to throw up.

In the end, a chunk of chocolate buttons is missing from the roof and the piping around the edges is far from your neatest work, but it’s passable. You already lamented your loss during the signature bake, because anything less than perfection was not going to win you much of anything, and you’re now 0-for-2 on showstopping, unbelievable, awe-inspiring confections.

Just like the devil, your fall from grace will be studied.

Overthinking isn’t going to get you anywhere, but you can’t help it.

You collapse sideways into a chair, immediately face-planting into the catering table. Everyone else buzzes around you—animated conversations that have your head spinning, words that jumble together and start to sound like nothing at all—but you’re a million miles away. One mistake is out of character for you, but two? It’s unheard of. Something you would’ve said was impossible if it didn’t happen to you just a few hours ago.

This is something you need to file away for later so you can think about it just as you’re about to fall asleep, horror and embarrassment there to keep you company when it keeps you awake until the wee hours of the morning.

A chill runs down your spine.

“Hi. Do you mind?” You startle. Bang your knee on the underside of the table. “Sorry,” Minghao apologizes, but he doesn’t look sorry at all. You shake your head. Gesture to the empty seat across from you as if to say it’s all yours. “I brought you some tea,” he continues, setting it in front of you. “I find it’s easier than coffee when you don’t know how someone takes theirs. Less chance of getting it wrong.”

You smile. Wrap your hands around the Styrofoam cup and delight in the warmth. “Thank you. This was very kind of you.”

“Seemed like you had a rough day.”

Groaning, you try to wave away his words. “Please don’t speak of it.” Minghao jokingly salutes you before miming his lips sealed. “Anyway. Let’s talk about something that is not reality television or baking or a reality baking competition.”

So, you do. Most of the talking comes from you, to be fair, but Minghao is a good listener: nods along, chimes in when appropriate, keeps the spit in his mouth where it belongs. You talk about your hometown and what made you apply for the show the first time. He tells you about growing up in Haicheng and all the things he grew up baking with his mother. You swap stories from your respective seasons; Minghao shares anecdotes with a straight face that have you clutching at your stomach.

Hours pass this way, and you end the night feeling like you’ve made an honest-to-god friend.

Xu Minghao ends the night feeling the guilt weigh him down like an albatross.

In retrospect, it is probably a bad idea to make another sponge, but no one can accuse you of learning from your mistakes.

“It’ll be a patterned joconde sponge with two mousse layers—chocolate and raspberry—and a raspberry jelly. Then I’m going to attempt to top it with chocolate and raspberry decorations.” The judges blink. Are you sure that’s a good idea? you know they want to ask, but this is a holiday competition for charity, so they’re trying not to be pessimists. “Anything is possible through holiday cheer,” you tack on, hoping your smile doesn’t look crazed.

They nod. “Right, right,” they say in unison. “Well, good luck!”

And then they’re off.

Determined to nail this, you triple-check your oven, which is preheating to a crisp 400 degrees; you double-check all your ingredients and confirm they’re correct; when you can spare the time, you watch your refrigerator like a hawk, making sure no one tries to sneak their own work in there and displace yours when you aren’t looking, but everyone’s engrossed in their respective showstoppers.

Tim’s planning a shadow box of sorts, with blown-sugar baubles and isomalt fire. Someone else is stressing over their three-tiered cake, asking the presenter if they think they’ve taken on too much. From what you can piece together, Minghao is making a three-dimensional house, also made from cake that he imported special pistachios for.

“Special pistachios?”

“Mm, from Iran. They have a better color.”

“Iranian pistachios! Can you believe it!”

But you don’t have time to worry about Minghao and his special Iranian pistachios. You have so much to do and not enough time to complete it. Your paste is in the freezer and the sponge is in the oven, but you’ve still got two mousses to make, a jelly to infuse, and little chocolate trees to create—and all of this wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t pointless, but you don’t want to disappoint the cats by half-assing it. They deserve your whole ass, and your whole ass is what they’re going to get.

The result is stunning—not necessarily in stature, but rather craftsmanship and effort. This is what you’re capable of. This is why you came back to the tent. For all your complaining and wanting to put your head through a concrete wall, there’s nothing like seeing the judges ooh and ahh when you present your work to them. There’s nothing like the ego boost of someone taking a bite and watching their eyes light up. There’s nothing like carrying your cake back to your station feeling proud of yourself.

“Great job,” Minghao says, a genuine smile stretched across his face. He also exceeds expectations, of course. Must be those special pistachios, you think, but your congratulations are also sincere.

Production makes a spectacle of judging, much like they always do.

The set is decorated to look like a winter wonderland, even though you’re still in the midst of autumn: a giant Christmas tree in the center decked to the nines with garland and baubles; warm, golden bulbs strung from every awning they could find; all the participants bundled up tight in festive sweaters and scarves all the way to your chins, cheeks and tips of noses dusted with red-pink blush to mimic the cold that’s nowhere to be found. Fake snow falls from the sky, and it doesn’t feel real, but it does feel magical.

One of the hosts catches you by the elbow, asks who you think is going to win. “Oh, I’d have to say Minghao,” you answer, because you’d rather die than give Tim the satisfaction. “His showstopper was incredible, but he was really great the whole competition.”

In the end, however, neither of them wins—it’s Jeon Wonwoo, three-tiered cake guy, who comes out of nowhere to claim first place. He’s bashful as he accepts his prize and says he’s going to donate the prize money to an organization that provides underprivileged kids with video game equipment. No one has a whole lot to say about that.

Once most of the hubbub dies down (and you give Tim a half-assed you did great, so sorry you didn’t win), you find Minghao near the refreshments table. He’s frowning around another mug of tea. “Alright?” you ask, helping yourself to some cider.

“For some reason, I’m no longer feeling very festive,” he replies, which is a very funny thing to say while wearing a hat with a little pom-pom on the top.

You roll your lips to keep from laughing. Sidle in a little closer and knock his shoulder with your own. “Ah, I know how you feel, but you really did do great. You were my pick to win, for what it’s worth.”

“Please don’t tell me that. It only makes me feel worse for losing.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “Would’ve been nice to donate some money to the cats, but shit, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn some dark force was sabotaging me. Like, come on—forgetting to preheat the oven? Using the wrong sugar? Not even a kid would’ve made those mistakes.”

Two things happen in rapid succession: beside you, Minghao goes very, very stiff, and you realize you had been sabotaged. And not by some dark, evil force, either. You were sabotaged by the very man standing beside you—the man you shared thumbs-up with and thought was your friend. The man whose cake you complimented and picked to win. The man who is now standing ramrod straight, as tense as a corpse, and the thought of sabotaging someone in a charity baking competition is so ridiculous and unbelievable that you just—

You just laugh.

At first, it’s a bark of stunned laughter. Then, the more it sinks in how absurd, how nonsensical all of this is, you can’t stop. Tears are rolling down your cheeks. You gasp for breath as your stomach begins to ache. People are staring, including Minghao, who sort of can’t believe what he’s seeing, but none of it does anything to deter you.

“Oh my god,” you wheeze, “I can’t believe it was you—”

Minghao groans. “In my defense, it was for the cats!”

This was not the answer you were expecting. It makes you laugh harder. “What do you mean it was for the cats?”

He swallows. Removes the mitten from one hand to run it through his hair as if that one tic was enough to distract you from everything that’s happened in the last sixty seconds. (It is.) “Listen, you told me you were going to donate the money to a cat charity if you won and I just—so was I, was the thing. I was also going to donate the money to a cat charity if I won—”

“Okay, but which one, though?”

“The Cat’s Paw-jamas.” Much to Minghao’s horror, this sets you off again. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Minghao,” you try to choke out, but you can barely breathe around the cramp in your stomach. “Minghao, that’s the charity I was going to donate to. Oh my god, you sabotaged me and I was going to donate to—to the same fucking place. Jesus Christ, this is some Gift of the Magi shit.”

Your saboteur, who has gone deathly pale, is quiet for a very long time. Every now and then he’ll open his mouth like he’s going to say something before it snaps shut again. When he does manage to speak, what comes out are mangled apologies that sound like gibberish, and you wave all of them away. “It’s water under the bridge.”

“I—I really don’t think it should be?”

“Minghao, it’s fine, trust me, this was just for fun—”

“No, I really insist.”

You sigh, good-natured and exasperated. Something about the fake snow has you feeling romantic and a little bold, so you turn, grab him by the lapels of his coat. “Please tell me if I’m misreading this, but if you insist, maybe you can start by taking me to dinner…?”

This was clearly not what MInghao was expecting you to say. Dazed, he recovers quickly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a half-smirk. “Dinner, hm?” You nod. “I think I can manage that.”

You smile. “Great. How do you feel about cat cafes?”

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow X Fem reader

Your past , My present, Our future Part 2 (Final)

(Part 1) (epilogue)

Description: after meeting your future child your mind is reeling, little do you know that there is another one watching from the shadows, and she isn’t alone.

Warnings: none cute Dadow fluff ahead

Note: so I know this story is going to leave a lot of questions to be answered don’t worry they will be in due time however I don’t mind answering them now so let me know, I will be posting the epilogue later this week hopefully which may or may not clear some things up.

The ebony hedgehog stood atop the tower her amber eyes scanning the area below.

She watched as her father spoke to her namesake below. something twisted in her heart, a feeling she couldn't quite place, not pain but not quite pride either. she watched as she spoke holding a surprising level of dignity and grace for her age. no wonder her father spoke so highly about her.

"OH MY GOSH!" a voice that unmistakably belonged to her mother called out distracting her from her thoughts.

a soft giggle escaped her lips even displaced in time she still found a way to bring her back to earth. "Thanks mom" she whispered.

"Maria! I need your help." a familiar voice behind her spoke making her jump.

"Gah! Silver what the hell, warn me! I could have attacked you just now!"

"Sorry, I'm just busy right now trying to keep time anomalies from happening"

"Yah I can see that." her eyes darting to her little now littler sister in Silver's hands,

"Hey! You look just like my sister RiRi" Nova said her voice full of excitement.

Maria smiled at the nickname her sister lovingly gave her, only she was allowed to call her that. "Yah, I get that a lot."

Her gaze returned to Silver "So How does it feel to be the older twin now?" She teased

"Please don't make this weird." Silver groaned

"I'm sorry, make this weird? Silver, You're holding your twin sister at age four in a timeless white void well before either of our conception. meanwhile you live in the past part-time, are on a first name basis with both our parent's, and you're dating a cat from another dimension, name one normal thing about any of this?"

"Hey! me and Blaze are just friends."

"That's not what she said." Maria pointed to Nova who was growing antsier by the second.

"What does she know anyway?"

"It's literally her jo-"

"Hey! Put me down!" Nova demanded waving her arms and kicking at the ivory hedgehog.

"Sorry Nova." Silver put her down on the floor between them.

"Now, what's this about you needing my help?"

"I need you to watch her for me, just until Sonic defeats the time eater and then we'll all go home."

"babysitting, really? How come you get all the cool missions?"

"Because, I'm not recognizable in the past , and you are."

"Yah, and how much longer do you have that excuse?"

"That doesn't matter right now. neither of you can be seen, unless you want to throw off the timeline"

Maria sighed her arguments once again being defeated. "What do you need to do anyway? get your butt kicked by Dad again?"

"No, by Sonic this time."

"Fine" she huffed "But you're doing my dishes for a week."

"What! seriously the future hangs in the balance right now and you're trying to wager chores."

"Hey, some people would ask for more, I personally think it's a generous offer."

"Maria stop pulling your brother’s leg, I'll watch her" the familiar voice of their father interrupted their spat.

"Papa!" Nova cried out excitedly running into his arms.

Shadow laughed as he picked the little hedgehog up and spun her around "Hello little one you've had quite the adveture today haven't you?"

the little girl beamed "just like you papa?"

"you could say that."

"can I come with you to work now!"

He smiled at her "I'll talk about it with your mother.” Shadow turned to his two other children “are you two alright?”

“Yah, I’ve been hiding here mostly, just watching” Maria responded

“I’m okay mostly busy trying to keep the timeline safe”

“Good, keep it up do you need any help”

“I’ve got it mostly covered so far you are the only ones from the future that could threaten the timeline well you guys and mom but she should be with past you right now”

“She’s not she went behind that wall over there after you left.” Maria corrected

Shadow nodded “Okay I’ll go check on her”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea with her? Nova's not exactly one for keeping secrets, especially as a child.”

"That's true I caught her just before she spilled the beans about Maria"

"Hey I didn't spill anything!"

"No, Nova it's an expression" Silver sounded exasperated.

"A what?"

Silver sighed "Never mind"

"She'll be fine, with all the running around she's been doing I'm sure she's due for a nap"

"But I'm not tired"

"Oh, you're not?" Shadow replied.

"Nope" the little hedgehog yawned betraying her own words

"Okay, well then sit still while I talk to these two okay little one."

She nodded in agreement laying her head on her father's chest

"Papa?"

"Yes dear?"

"How come mama's quills aren't white?"

The air grew thick as the three looked at each other unsure of what to say. at her age it was never explained, she couldn't have possibly understood. what those scientists did to you, and why. No, that was a story for another day.

It was so long before her birth she hadn't known her mother any other way. even for Silver it was strange to see you before it happened despite that being his only safety for not being discovered yet.

"She's trying something new today, don't you like it?" Shadow finally answered.

"I think mama looks pretty"

"Yah, she always looks pretty."

Nova smiled at him before closing her eyes beginning to nod off.

"Silver keep doing whatever you need to do to keep the timeline in check okay?”

“Yes sir”

“Do you need a boost? Before you go?” Maria asked.

“I should be okay for now maybe after I fight Sonic”

“Okay, you know where I am” Maria gave her brother a hug

“Stay safe son” Shadow hugged Silver making sure not to disturb the little one who was being to lightly snore

“Thanks Dad” and with that silver took off heading off into the void.

Maria and Shadow were silent for a moment watching as Silver disappeared from sight.

“Hey Dad.”

“Yah”

“Just how far in the future are you from?” Maria couldn’t help glancing at the young girl from the past.

“Far enough to know what you want to ask.” Shadow placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder “You’ll find your own way I promise.”

“Well that’s awfully cryptic.”

“You know how important the timeline is, knowing what happens could put your future at risk”

“I know, it’s just, why can’t I fight yet? I know everything there is to know, and there’s so much good I want to do why won’t you let me? I mean silver is out there fighting with you and he’s four years younger than me why can’t I?

“I’m sorry Maria but that conversation can only happen when you’re ready, and I’m afraid you’re not there yet.”

“When will I be then?”

“Soon, I promise.”

She huffed unsatisfied with the answer but understanding that she couldn’t pry for more. “You probably have to go check on mom now don’t you?”

“She can wait a few more minutes if you need.”

“Nah she seemed pretty freaked, it was kinda funny not gonna lie”

Shadow smiled at his young daughter admiring how much she was like you.

“Alright stay hidden and please, try not to create any explosions”

“Dad, please, look who you’re talking to”

Shadow sighed “just keep the damage to a minimum”

“You got it” Maria smiled before giving her dad a hug. “Love you”

“You too kiddo”

And just as quickly as he appeared her father vanished into the white void taking her sister with him. Maria returned to her place watching the action happening once again.

“Oh man, Pepper is never going to believe this”

❤️

You leaned against the wall your mind going a million miles a second with no stop in sight.

You were beginning to feel nauseous at the concoction of emotions swirling through you.

You were mortified at the scene that just took place scolding yourself for running into a situation before properly assessing it, at the same time you were still coming down from the sadness of your boyfriend not knowing your identity, not to mention the child you were apparently going to have showing up.

You had nothing against children, in fact you wanted children of your own someday, but you and Shadow hadn't even talked about it yet. the panic of her arrival had come with the side affect of an overwhelming wave of affection. after all your future with Shadow had all been conformed.

You loved him and wanted this future with him, but it was all happening so fast you couldn't catch your breath, literally you were beginning to hyperventilate.

You needed to calm down so you closed your eyes sat down and focused on your breathing unaware that you were being watched

❤️

As Shadow approached you he couldn’t help but think about the early stages of your relationship. He remembered the way you looked at him, the ways you broke down his walls like no one else could, the ways you would comfort him as he woke from a nightmare.

He looked at you and felt a comfort in knowing not much had changed in all these years however, he was reminded just how much other things changed as well.

Right now you were untouched, not knowing what the future would bring, you looked younger, of course you did this was before.

Four years and three months before to be exact.

If perfection could be achieved it no doubt would look like you. Seeing you like this once again made him smile. still, guilt lingered in the back of his mind.

Images of the past flashed through his mind. The worst year of his life, six months of searching only to find you too late, and six more months trying to undo the damage. Your quills were supposed to turn white with age now they would never change at all.

You claimed you didn’t mind that the outcome was a “best case scenario”. Still he knew that you had something taken from you. Something that he had wanted for you, something he knew you could never get back not for a long time at least.

You were still perfect of course, just in a different way. Despite the challenges you pulled through healing in ways he never thought possible. You moved past it, you remained in love with him and gave him children he owed you the world and more.

Little Nova cooed in his arms yet another reminder of why you were just so remarkabl

Shadow stood next to you as you sat on the floor working through your breathing technique, not wanting to startle you he spoke gently.

“Hey”

You looked up at the familiar voice it was defiantly Shadow, but he seemed more familiar with you. he hadn't aged, of course he didn't but he had an air about him that seemed more mature like he's learned more from the word than the last you saw him, and on top of that he was holding the little hoglet Silver had whisked away moments ago.

"umm hey, so sorry but I'm really confused right now a lot is happening and I'm not entirely sure what."

"It's okay Y/N I understand"

"Okay so before I start I just want to make sure, You know me right?"

Shadow smiled at you "Yes my love"

You heaved a sigh of relief "Okay good, so first off how are you dear"

"I'm doing fine, I'm here to check on you"

"Okay good, Second wow I'm just- I don't really know what to say right now. It's just a lot. I mean we have a kid? That's - wow."

"Are you disappointed?"

"What? Of course not! it's just, I don't know, Kids have always been this possibility to me, you know, they're just hypothetical things. I mean we haven't really talked about it, I don't know you're opinions on them are so there was a chance I wouldn't have them, but now, it's real and obviously you know we have one.”

“I was little worried at first, having something so small, but I also knew I wanted a family especially one with you.”

“Am I any good at it, the whole parenting thing?”

“You’re the best at it”

The tension you in your shoulder released as you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked up at Shadow a warm feeling spread through your heart seeing how he gently held your sleeping child in his arms.

“Should we be talking while she’s asleep”

“Oh, She’s fine she sleeps through anything. One time you were making dinner during her nap and all the pots and pans crashed out of the cabinets she didn’t even move”

“Oh that’s good”

“Yah, she’ll give you a run for your money when she’s awake though”

You giggled “you know, that’s a good look on you, you look happy.”

“I am” the two of you smiled at one another “do you want to hold her?”

“Is that allowed? I mean would that mess up the timeline at all? I don’t want Silver to be mad or anything.”

Shadow held back a snicker, you had no idea “don’t worry about Silver trust me, he won’t bother you”

“Oh, okay then.”

Shadow gently placed the little girl in your arms your heart swelling as she curled up against your chest a she called out a tiny “mama?” Instinctively you rubbed her back lulling her back to sleep surprising yourself in the process.

Getting a closer look at her you wondered how you didn’t immediately clock her as yours the two of you shared many features but the ones you found your favorite were the ones Shadow gave her. Her grey markings, the way her quills curled up she even snored like him.

“She’s so cute, how do I function?”

“Trust me you take a lot of pictures.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Shadow sat down next to you. As you turned to smile at him he noticed, after all these years you still smiled at him the same way you. All the trauma all the changes those people forced you through they couldn’t change the simple fact that you loved him, no matter what happened or how much time had passed you would always love him.

The two of you talked behind the wall passing the time as you waited for the action to be over.

“Shouldn’t you be helping yourself with your dad?” You asked at one point

“Trust me, this is much more important”

After a couple hours you noticed something, Nova’s foot was slowly becoming transparent panic flooded through you as you tried to stop it realizing you were beginning to disappear too.

“Don’t worry, this is just how you go home you’ll be okay I promise.”

“Okay and how about her?”

“She’ll wake up in the same place she disappeared she’ll be safe”

You nodded “any advice for the future?”

He took your face in his hands taking memorizing your features one last time. “ Just remember that I’ll always love you no matter what”

“I love you too”

Shadow leaned in and kissed you this wasn’t his last kiss with you, not by a mile but it still felt like a goodbye. You were taken so suddenly and by the time he saw you again the damage had been done. He knew he couldn’t warn you about it, but he could use this kiss as an apology, as reassurance that everything would turn out okay.

As you faded from his view he smiled, knowing that despite what happened the two of you had a bright future ahead.

❤️

You woke up in a lush green field your picnic basket neatly laid next to you, the path ahead clear. Checking the time on your phone you noticed that no time had passed since you entered the void, even so you were still late for your picnic date.

Grabbing your basket you rushed off to your usual meeting place knowing you had one hell of an excuse.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“That’s alright, I’m still setting up.”

“The blanket? Love, all you have to do is lay it on the floor.”

“I know I was just making sure I had a good vantage point in case anything comes to attack us.”

“Aw love, I appreciate your vigilance but I sincerely doubt someone is going to attack us in a wide open field in the middle of the day.”

“You never know when someone is going to strike I just want to be prepared.”

You kissed him between his ears handing him his sandwich “never change darling”

You sat beside him taking your lunch out as well.

“So Nova’s pretty cute isn’t she”

Shadow froze looking at you in shock.

“When did you-”

“Just now. So you knew this whole time?!”

“Yes”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Please, like you would have believed me.”

“I might have”

Shadow gave you one of his looks that showed complete doubt.

“Oh you” you jumped on him pushing him to the ground your lips colliding as Shadow wrapped his hand around your waist. You giggled against his lips continuing as the two of you parted continuing your picnic on the beautiful spring afternoon steps away from your first meeting.

❤️

Three years prior

Shadow sat beneath the tree watching the festivities below. He had no idea why he let Rouge convince him to come. They were all the same full of people making pointless small talk about nothing.

Sure there were people he tolerated but they were always busy talking to the ones he couldn’t stand.

Shadow skulked checking the time waiting for the hour mark when Rouge said it was an acceptable time to leave. Only five minutes left and they couldn’t come soon enough.

“Excuse me, is it alright if I sit here?” A sweet voice called out.

Looking up he saw a familiar figure, he tried looking for you after the time eater incident to no avail, years passed and he didn’t have the time to search, the world needed saving and he was the only competent enough to do it properly.

“I suppose” he responded

“Thank you, don’t get me wrong I love parties but they get way too loud.”

Shadow scoffed “Yah that’s Sonic for you, always has to throw the biggest parties.”

You giggled “Yah, he’s sweet and all but he definitely needs to come with a warning sign.”

Shadow found himself laughing at your comment.

“How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“I just moved here Amy invited me, quite a colorful cast of characters around here.”

“Yah, almost too colorful”

You giggled at his comment bringing a warmth to his face he was unfamiliar with.

“I’m Y/N, and you are?”

“Shadow, Shadow the Hedgehog.”

“Nice to meet you Shadow”

[lunesviolettes]

Void - 02.

(This series was originally posted on my Wattpad, so I’m bringing it over here)

pairing: MCU!bucky barnes x MCU!female reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: Y/N was far from any normal girl in Brooklyn during the 1940s. Her physical and mental strength were far from ordinary and her mother and father were nothing short of strange, just like her. Secrets and strange occurrences were all that she had ever known and with the approach of a second global war, it seemed that everything would only become stranger. A powerful organization, a target on the back of a young girl, a serum, and an infinity stone were all that it would take to change everything she knew about her world.

chapter warnings: mild sexism and harassment. very minor self harm.

a/n: This fanfic follows the course of the MCU movies (The First Avenger - Thunderbolts). It’s more focused on the story aspect of the MCU and is very much a slow burn type of story with not a lot of focus on smut.

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

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"That's the part where you laugh. It's because he...you know...he-why do I even talk to you guys?" You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back in the booth. Your reaction seemed far funnier than the joke itself and without any attempts to contain their composure, laughter burst free from the three individuals sitting around you. Your scowl deepened and you lowered yourself away from the annoyed stares that came from other families in the diner.

"You guys are so embarrassing." You whispered, covering your quickly warming face.

The moment the dishes had arrived could not have come any sooner. You were sure you would have to run from the diner as a result of sheer embarrassment and never show your face there again. Nothing held the four of you back when you were all together. You were a chemical mixture that spiraled out of control more often than not.

When one started laughing, there was nothing that could prevent any of you from breaking out in fits of hysteria which rarely ever stopped until you were wiping tears away from your eyes.

When you all had finally calmed yourselves and began to dig into your meals, Steve was overcome with a sense of apprehension. They were being watched. He could feel their unwavering stare from a few tables over and when he'd snuck a glance, he'd found the culprit. It was a man. One who didn't appear much older than any of them and so, at first, he'd assumed it was one of their former classmates who might've recognized them.

That assumption fell flat when he followed his gaze towards a certain woman who laughed lightly under her breath at whatever Bucky had whispered to her. From underneath the table, he kicked his foot forward, the action causing more pain than he had intended. "Ow! Steve, what was that for?" You scowled, reaching under the table to rub at your throbbing shin. It was Louise who followed Steve's pointed stare, a scheming smile on her face. "Y/N, don't look up but there's a boy staring at you."

Instead of listening to your friend, you sighed, looking up immediately across the room to which the boy's eyes quickly fell. "Now he's not." You said flatly. Louise groaned, squeezing the bridge of her nose at her shorter friend's lack of excitement. "You should talk to him. He keeps looking over here. Determined little thing." Louise observed. You all but scoffed, earning an elbow to your side. "He's not all that bad looking." She argued.

You simply had no interest in the matter and shrugged, an unamused expression on your face as you looked up briefly. "He's okay."

"Come on, Y/N. When was the last time you talked to a guy?"

"A couple of seconds ago." You retorted, throwing a sly smile in Louise's direction. "Bucky and Steve don't count." She responded, to which you rolled your eyes. "I'm just not interested in meeting anyone-" A rather abrupt and dramatic gasp cut you off, the wide-eyed brunette leaning forward. "You already like someone." She whispered. Both Steve and Bucky looked in your direction, though only one of them seemed to be excited by that observation.

"No-I-I don't. I'm just...I don't like anyone." You weren’t exactly helping your case.

It was then that the diner door swung open with a small ding, and you were grateful for the distraction as the attention was finally off of you. You quickly let the topic go, but not before you kicked Louise underneath the table muttering for her to 'shut it'. The two men who entered had strolled along the rows of tables, taking their seats with the boy who was once the root of your conversation.

You followed them with a mildly cautious gaze until they sat down, eyes narrowing as one boy leaned forward, a hushed discussion passing between them. Without a care in the world, the tallest of the three had snuck a glance over their shoulder, finding you amongst the families dining. Upon the realization that you were staring back at him, he turned, but not before you spotted a smile crawling onto his face.

Your look of concentration faded away. Something about his smile was off putting. The slightest of shivers crawling down your spine. The moment you all finally exited the diner could not have come any sooner. A small ding signaled your departure and when you were but a few steps away from the building, it rang out a second time. "I'm telling you, Y/N, he was smiling at you." Louise claimed, but her words had fallen on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat.

The shuffle of shoes against the concrete came closer and closer until someone pushed past you, the forced gesture nearly knocking you and Louise both off your feet. "Pardon me...sir." The man said with a snicker.

You shrugged your arm out of Steve's grasp as soon as you were grounded back on your two feet. Anger boiled up within you into a fiery pit, your jaw ticking with rage. You took a step forward, earning a sharp tug on your arm.

"Y/N, let's just go." Louise whispered, watching as the two men walked ahead laughing and peering at you over their shoulders. The second her hand released your arm, you pushed forward, nearing the two men with each pound of your shoes against the concrete. "Hey! You got a problem or somethin'?" Both men turned, watching with amused expressions.

"Don't-cha think you'd be a little more comfortable wearing somethin' more...appropriate." The man who had pushed into you reached a hand out and tugged at your collar. You grunted, shoving his arm away and readjusted your neckline. The presence of three individuals had appeared behind you, a gentle but firm grasp resting on your shoulder. Bucky stood tall, regarding the men with narrowed eyes.

Steve moved to your right, the two men nearly towering over him. And still, he held tight to his bravery, eyeing them as if they were no threat to him. "Hey, why don't you leave her alone and stop worrying about things that don't concern you?" His words seemed to thoroughly amuse the men, their heads thrown back, laughing as if this was the funniest thing they had seen all day.

"Aw, looks like she's got her own guard dog to stand up for her. What a good boy, you wanna treat?" He teased, managing to ruffle Steve's hair before Bucky took a step forward. He pressed his palm against the man’s chest, forcing him back.

"Alright, both of you back off and leave ‘em alone." He warned. People had begun to watch from both sidewalks on either side of the street, either waiting for a fight or just stuck being a poor bystander. Your gaze had not moved from their faces, jaw set and tensed. One hand was curled into a fist, fingernails forming crescents in your palm. The man who had shoved you stepped closer to Bucky, sizing him up with a cocky grin.

"That a threat?"

"It's a warning. One that I suggest the both a' ya' take." Bucky kept his voice steady, his expression calm despite the rage that clung to him. He would never give them what they wanted. He would never let them see him angry. He would not give them the satisfaction of knowing they had riled him up.

Both men huffed turning away, but not before one spared one last glance at you. "Might find a husband faster if he can see more of ya, darlin'.”

"I wouldn't want a husband if he's anything like the two of you." You said, taking a daring step forward. "I'd be careful if I were you, missy. Don't let yourself get in trouble with that mouth of yours."

"I could tell you the same thing." You spat back, holding your chin high as you stared into his eyes "Bitch." He grumbled, moving to pull his friend along. He never got very far. Bucky smiled, but it was far from friendly as he latched onto the shoulder of the man, pulling him back. The man turned, but he was met by Bucky’s fist as it struck the side of his face. He doubled over, clutching his jaw. A budding bruise painted his cheek, his lip split and actively bleeding.

The second man stepped up, but Bucky was fast. He curled his fists into the lapels of his suit, yanking him close. “I suggest you leave while your teeth are still intact.” With one shove, the man stumbled back and ran. It didn’t take long for the aggressor to run as well, both of their tails tucked between their legs.

Bucky turned back to you, his chest rising and falling faster than before. You could tell he was angry, but he would never fully show it. He was a gentleman first and always. His gaze softened as he looked down at you. “You alright?” He asked, drawing a slow nod from you.

"I don't know about you three, but I don't really wanna see that movie anymore." Louise mumbled, watching the shapes of the men growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

"Me neither." Steve replied, turning back the way they had come with his hands shoved into his pockets. The once giddy Louise had followed, her mood having quickly soured. “Come on.” Bucky said softly, holding his arm out. Your fingers curled around his bicep, matching his pace as the two of you followed after Louise and Steve.

He tried his best to pay no mind to the crescent moons in shades of red indented in your palms. You and he were not so different. Short tempers, fighting tooth and nail to keep it from bubbling to the surface. His bruised knuckles were a clear giveaway of that.

"I hate them." You said finally, your bottom lip quivering. "I hate them more than I've ever hated anything in my life. Why must people behave that way? All because of what someone wears or what they look like? I…how could they...it's disgusting." You stammered, shaking your head. Bucky watched as you subtly wiped away a stray tear that managed to slide down your cheek.

There were so many things he wished he could say. So many words he wished he could share with you to ease your mind, but a part of him knew that no assurances could make you feel better until you believed them for yourself.

The sky seemed to have grown dull as the day went on, casting shadows over the cities and neighborhoods. In the window of a red brick apartment, one could spot three figures sat at a kitchen table remaining relatively still. The fourth came in view of the window occasionally, eyes on the ground as she paced.

You poked at your fingernails, scratching the surface gently as if the action would distract you from the previous events of the afternoon. Their words had cut deep. You could still feel the fabric of your collar being tugged further down. Maybe you were being dramatic, but you couldn’t help but feel disgusted. The action reducing you to nothing more than a source of entertainment for the men.

You knew fairly well that you would receive the occasional strange look for your wardrobe, considering women rarely ever wore pants, unless in a workplace, but never had a person ever confronted you head-on like that. It caught you off guard, and you hated feeling like that.

Maybe you shouldn't have been trying so hard to show that the world was finally changing. Some people weren't ready to see those changes. "You can't blame yourself, Y/N," Bucky whispered. "I can see it on your face. You can't let people like that have that sort of power over you. What you were wearing is not the issue and you know it."

"But it is," You said, your voice rising several octaves. "The world isn't ready for women to rise up onto the same pedestal that used to be reserved for men only. It never has been. I would've been better off wearing a skirt or a dress like every other woman or girl, I just made trouble for myself, you two and Louise."

"You think Marie Curie got where she was by listening to what the male population thought about her? You think she became the first person to win two novel prizes by stickin' to what society felt a woman should do?" You all but scoffed, shaking your head lightly. "I wouldn't use Marie Curie as an example. What she did was far greater than just wearing pants as a sign of rebellion."

"Buck's not wrong, Y/N," Steve finally spoke, leaning forward. "What's that thing Marie Curie said?"

"You used to repeat it like it was your personal mantra." You looked toward the window where Louise had stalled, smiles rising on each of your faces. That one phrase had changed your life. It made you feel like everything you were doing was all worth it. Without that phrase having come into your life, you knew that you would not be where you were. "'I was taught that the way of progress was neither swift nor easy'."

As if a surge of confidence had finally struck you, you stood from your seat. The world seemed to show itself to you in a whole new light, apparent by the look of determination on your face. You knew what you should do. That phrase lit a spark inside you. A new light that could not be put out by anyone or anything. It was a light you would carry for nearly a hundred years to come. You would become a force to be reckoned with.

At that point, nothing would stop you from achieving your dreams. You were going to accomplish something as great as what Marie Curie did. You would do it. Somehow. Someway. "I have to go somewhere." You blurted out, spinning on your heel and yanking your shoulder bag up from the faded blue couch.

Despite the confused calls of your name, you sprinted out the door, racing down the stairs to the sidewalk with a fire burning in your lungs. The strong bursts of wind were no match for you as you pumped your arms, moving further, and faster. Those words spoken to you...that phrase...guaranteed your future. The second you stepped out of that door, your destined path had begun.

You would become something far greater than you ever intended. You would create something that exceeded your knowledge of science. You would create a miracle. You just needed a little help.

Next Chapter

[zoroara]

Okay so here's one of my "I noticed a detail and went absolutely ridiculous about it" Kind of posts. This is going to be very very long so I'm just throwing it under the read more pre-emptively

So for some context was a while back while I was drawing the one image of Mayuri and Szayelaporro, I noticed Szayelaporro didn't have any of those little white eye shine spots in his eyes in a vast majority of his appearance. meaning his default look is actually without them. This follows in both Anime and Manga.

This then lead to be me checking the rest of the arrancar, finding that almost all male Arrancar lack eye shine, and most female ones do have it. fast forward to now where i decided i needed a much more in depth look on this.

For Some context, to save myself some hell, where characters have those itty bitty dot eyes like kenpachi's and renjis despite them definitely having this difference is because, I did not do this because I am not scanning every single thing for extremely small instances of this. The only reason nnoitra is here is just because I happened upon finding it in both the anime and manga. I would personally barely count this as any form of proof but it was there and I felt like if I didn't put him there, there would be questions and he's a good Segway into this. I also made sure to show grimmjows TTYB to show it was continued there(this stayed consistent so I didn't feel it necessary to continue picking that for other hollows like Nelliel). Interestingly with his hollow form was given more shine and life than in the manga.

^ these are the male Arrancars that follow into this

v these are the female Arrancars that all have eyeshine(Appacci's brown eye doesn't though)

Now, you may notice this isn't everyone with big eyes we can see, there are in fact some outliers of course! But the ones that are, are interesting.

Here we see that Harribel was originally given much colder eyes which were changed in the anime. She is the only female arrancar to break this. Meanwhile most of the others (I personally do believe Charlotte female but I know this is a debated topic thus I put her here) Are Arrancar whom I would believe tend to lean towards more ambiguous designs.

But these are of course, not the only people who lack eye shine, of course not. However, there is a weirdly high number of Arrancar that have this quirk simply naturally. In fact, almost all other characters need to be in some form of state for it to be lacking. (An exception is manga Aizen, after his betrayal, he does lose the eye shine, this doesn't happen in the anime however.)

Apologies for Unohana's situation there the scene is like super dark.

But the interesting note, is aside from hers, most of these states have something to do with hollows as well. Ichigo's hollow forms, the Visoreds(of the ones that you can actually see the eyes), Kugo's fullbring bankai(where full brings are caused by hollow influence), I would count Aizen's god form if it were not for the fact the loss of this happens earlier in the manga.

Notably there's two hollows who have it in anime only other than harribel? These two.

Now, this is not unique to hollows I'll say that, there's about four quincies and exactly two shinigami that has decently sized eyes that we can see this in. (I'm not counting pernida in this because that is gods hand. But if you're wondering no pernida does not have this either, same with any that is once a part of the soul king but they all got fucked up eyes)

The two Shinigami I can say for sure don't are:

These two, I would have put tosen there but the only place where we see his Irises are when he's literally dying. Also up until I did this i had not yet seen Chojiro in the manga and learning they GAVE him more than white void eyes threw me through a loop. (I fully intend to read the manga after I catch up to the anime)

But here are the Quincies

Interestingly they initially give Yhwach the shine in the anime up until he uses his ability that makes his eyes fucky. I also find it interesting that As Nodt's pupils in the manga are white.

Is there a point to this rambling? Not exactly, the most of the through-line I've found is that when Kubo wants something to feel inhuman he'll typically remove this. Leading to a vast majority of hollows lacking this, but rarely does this with female characters, leading to a quirk where almost all female arrancars continue to have the eye shine. Either way thank you for making it this far and reading my rambling that's been bouncing around for a while now.

[mysumeow]

☆◞Tsumsitting

Drabble: You get roped into tsumsitting with some of your fellow classmates [Deuce&Lilia]. Neither of you expected this turn of events, but it's fun to watch the little creature's antics. Word count: 200 each approx. Warnings: None. All fluff. A/N: I've had this post in my drafts for like two months? I'm releasing it from the void now :)

──DEUCE:

It's all fun and games until Deuce's tsum (Deucetsum?) doesn't hesitate a second to jump on another student who was berating you over something small. By accident, you brushed shoulders with that student in the hallways before he began complaining about you not watching where you're walking, towering over you in an attempt to intimidate you.

Not even a second later, Deuce tsum grew in size and threw itself against him, tackling him to the floor. The student couldn't get up as the tsum applied the effective move of continuously jumping on the guy's head and making his head knock against the floor many times.

You were petrified. If the tsum could grow out muscled arms to throw hands, it would've. You could see the murderous intent in its tiny, beaded eyes.

With both of yours and Deuce's efforts combined, you managed to control the little plushie guy before it suffocated its victim with its...stuffing-filled body? What was that creature made up of anyway?

The tsum seemed to ease a bit once in your arms, looking up at you with curiosity. You had a hunch that it was perhaps checking if you were okay, and the longer you looked at it with mirrored curiosity, the more its small cheeks blushed.

“You little rascal,” Deuce grabbed the tsum away from you and held it by its scuff as if it were a kitty. “You can't go anywhere without stirring up some trouble.” He sighed and let go shortly after.

──LILIA

In the morning, you were about to head out to class. As you were closing the door, something soft fell on your shoulder.

Not giving it too much thought, used to Grim climbing on there from time to time, you didn't spare it a glance.

That was, until you noticed Grim left out a: "Wah! What's that on your shoulder!"

You blinked twice, first looking at Grim, then at the curious fellow on your shoulder who stared back at you, then back at Grim.

“Eek—!” Your reaction garnered an amused one from the tsum on your shoulder, which would be laughing if it had a mouth.

Wait, was it actually laughing? Oh, nevermind. It was Lilia, who also appeared out of nowhere and laughed at the occurrence.

“I was just looking for that little scamp. I'm glad you found it! Or, well, the other way around,” Lilia smiled pleased as he watched the tiny guy jump from your shoulder towards the top of your head. “Hm, it doesn't seem to want to go yet.”

Lilia tried to beckon the tsum to jump onto his shoulder, but the tsum ignored him. Somehow, the tsum stayed still for more than a whole minute while resting on your head!? Well, at least, until it saw its next victim to startle in the hallways.

[arvandus]

Obey Me: OG + NB Theory - Something's Fishy About Barbatos...

Look, I'm just gonna scream into the void and see if the void screams back cuz I'm hyperfixating and need to sleep. Sorry if this has been done before btw; I know OG has been out for forever and I’m finally catching up to everyone else… but humor me. 😅

I'm calling it now, OG lesson 80 and NB are CONNECTED.

(read more for length and OG spoilers)

This black crevasse thing isn't over, and NB is a continuation of that.

What makes me say that?? Because it's hinted at during the morning after interactions with Barbatos in Lesson 80-12.

To recap what happened at the end of OG, a dark crevasse was accidentally opened and Mammon, Levi, and Asmo were sucked in. Solomon called on Barbatos to save them and bring them back, and then seal the crevasse. Later, it's pointed out that while Solomon was strong enough to close the crevasse, he didn't have the ability to save the brothers. He used Barbatos and his time powers to save them.

Which MEANS that they were technically dead once they were sucked in, and Barbatos reversed their deaths using his time ability when he pulled them out.

Afterwards, Barbatos started having horrible headaches, and the brothers started to cease to exist - Levi turned invisible, no one could remember Mammon's name, and Asmo no longer had a reflection. By the end of it, when the group has opened a new dark crevasse and are trying to throw the magical item (the treasure chest) into the abyss to fix it, all three brothers are invisible, Levi can no longer touch solid objects, and Barbatos is barely clinging to consciousness.

Of course, the magic from the chest is released, it's sucked into the dark crevasse, the crevasse is sealed, etc. etc. The brothers are back to normal, and Barbatos's headaches are no more. It seems as if all's well that ends well...

OR IS IT?

We get to stay the night at the castle, and the next morning, Barbatos wakes us up. This is already suspicious, since it's pretty much implied that we went to bed with one of the brothers (Mammon, Beel, or Belphie). So the fact that Barbatos is waking us up for breakfast instead of whatever brother we selected to go to bed with...?? Weird. Normally, I'd expect Mammon to nag us awake, Belphie to still be in bed with us, and Beel to probably bring food to us in bed. But nope, we get Barbatos.

Sus. Very sus.

And for good reason. As it turns out, Barbatos is acting... different. There's so many ways I can dive into how exactly based on the different interaction options, but that will add too much length to this post, so I might make a separate one later.

Either way, he's definitely not quite acting himself. So much so, that we get a chance to point it out to him as a dialogue option regardless of what romantic/nonromantic option we chose prior:

I'll type it here for those who need it:

MC: Is it just me, or is something different about you? Barbatos: About me? No, I don't think... Barbatos: ...Wait. Actually, perhaps you're right.

Then he just proceeds to be like, "Okay, come meet us for breakfast! Toodles!"

Like?!?!

BRUH, YOU CAN'T JUST RESPOND LIKE THAT AND NOT EXPAND UPON IT???

It's not even the fact that he doesn't expand on it - that part is actually very normal for him. He's never one to tell more information than he wants. But I DID find it interesting that he straight up agrees/admits it to MC that something is different about him. AKA, we as the readers are SUPPOSED to notice this. It's important to the plot.

So, to recap, we know the following:

The brothers were sucked into the crevasse and essentially died as soon as they entered it

Barbatos saved them using his time abilities

Barbatos had SERIOUS consequences to doing so - really bad headaches, nearly incapacitated by the end of the finale, so much so that it was taking everything he had just to stay conscious with MC after they caught him. (This is MAJOR because he's always been so OP and invincible up to this point. Whatever this black crevasse power is, it's strong enough to bring him to his knees. Terrifying.)

Something is "different" about him afterwards, which he even acknowledges but doesn't expand on.

Whatever happened with that black crevasse impacted Barbatos. It did something to him. I'm not saying I know what that is, even though I have my theories (I'll save that for another post too). But I'm pretty damn sure this is going to tie into Nightbringer in some way. Barbatos has become a much more major character for the NB storyline, and there's a reason for it.

OG is the "fuck around" and NB is the "find out." Right now, we're finding out (...hopefully... if the writers can get their shit together).

(Also, as a side note, the idea of Nightbringer coming from the Dark Crevasse just tickles a part of my brain that I can't really describe.)

[iblameashley]

Okay... I need to get some thoughts out...

To anyone who hasn't watched the end of Arcane, you may want to skip this. To be kind to y'all, but put my thoughts under the cut.

I really want to start off by saying that I actually did like Arcane! But like with most things, now that I have had time to reflect... I have feelings. And where better to get them out than Tumblr / screaming into the void.

They amusing thing to me about Arcane is that, for all its progressive themes, it still manages to fumble (from my point of view), gay representation. Gay men, specifically...

But as an Old Gay™ who has lived through so many TV shows that bypass, imply, nod, wink and nudge at gay relationships, if not flat out kill the gays and deny them a happy ending; I'm tired of implied gay men.

Lets start with Old Man Yaoi™

So in the alternate universe we get a glimpse of what is heavily implied to be two old gay (or Bi) men happy together.

I know some people might look at it and be like 'you're looking too closely at this, they're just friends now.' but... There is only one thing written more homoerotically and we'll get to that later.

Once again, all we are given is gentle touches, smiles and glances. And that can be fine sometimes. But its all implied and subtle. We have a whole dance scene with Ekko and Jinx, but they could have had Vander and Silco in the background dancing as well? We could have gotten a tender kiss?

We were given lesbian sex in a jail cell, but two gay men having a loving an intimate moment was too much? Of course it was. Lesbians are the safe option. They're always the safe option in TV when you want to have gay relationships. (This is not to say that lesbians get a 100% free pass, or don't have backlash! I simply mean that TV producers feel more confident including lesbians over gay men in media).

And of course we have Jayvik

I read on the other (hell) site that the creators of Arcane never intended to make Jayce and Viktor an item. I don't follow the creators and have no intention of looking it up, but lets be honest... this shit was so homoerotic.

But once again, things are mostly just implied or alluded to.

Would I have loved for them to kiss? Yes. Did I need them to kiss? No.

The gentle touches and looks were nice, for sure. I enjoy the intimacy of the moment, but we couldn't even get an 'I love you' with the actual words.

It feels like, once again, we can't have two men confess they love each other (even if it was platonic) because that would just be too much. Instead we get another repeat of "I want my partner back."

And then of course they explode into... something. Of course they could have simply changed states of being, or something. But its frustrating to always see gay men (viewers) get the short end of the stick once again. I'm tired of having to settle for implied romances or confessions of love from two men.

Anyway. I still loved both seasons of the show overall, but I just needed to let some of my frustrations out. I will now return to being delusional and throwing myself into the fandom to get more gay content that TV still hesitates to provide me with.

As an Aside... Loris deserved better!

I want this man in ways I cannot accurately express on this site. (I'd give this babygirl all the peanuts he'd want)

Thank you for reading my little gay rant. I feel better having typed things out a bit, even if I didn't cover every one of my intrusive thoughts in this post.

[eggwishing]

LORD alfuckingmighty i don't think there is a single string of words i could piece 2gether to properly describe the absolute magnificence of ur art . you have such a vast understanding of art & so many of its intricacies. ur character designs are ALWAYS incredible, so so endearing & memorable. every time i see one i get incredibly excited & am strangled by the urge to make fanart because just. oh my god. you have some of the BEST color work i have ever fucking seen like it is genuinely fucking spectacular what you are able to create & look good with combinations of colors i would NOT think to place in the way you do if i were given the same palette. i feel like calling your doodles just "doodles" is like, WRONG, because every single one is something u could spend ages looking at on its own. i'd pick favorites to describe but we would be here for hours . you have the insane ability to keep your style consistent but are able to stretch it & change it for whatevers appropriate/the receive your desired result for the particular drawing and its just SO. SO. COOL. take literally all of this and add it to the fact that you can fucking ANIMATE !!! while still keeping all of these features of ur style intact and that fact is just OTHERWORLDLY to me in the best way possible . not only that but ur stories r always so very intriguing and it makes me SOO ANGRY that oc artwork & original stories dont receive the same attention as fandom work or otherwise because i swear 2 fucking god you go absolutely ABOVE and beyond in terms of creativity for ur stories & DESERVE THE RECOGNITION AAAAAAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRORWGGGGGGGGGGGGRWGGGGGGGGGGRGGGGGGGGGRGGGGGGGGGGGGGRGGGGGGGGGGGGGG okay im done. i hav been up for almost 24 hours and saw one of ur drawings and got real emotional ihope uhave an awesome day eebrt i hope to be at least 10th place in ur list of biggest fans .

oh my god . I'm responding to this on a computer which doesn't have any of my usual images OR emojis that I would usually throw at you like. I don't know Someone who's really really REALLY good at throwing stuff. so I'll just use my words. THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!! this means the absolute world to me.. I did not expect to be blasted in the face by one million kisses when I checked my inbox, I had to sit back in my chair like WOW.... I love you .... I love youuuu...... thank you so much for the encouragement, I've been feeling not so confident And kind of afraid (leaving to study animation in college very soon) for the last few days n your words are lifting me out of the void like bingbong's rocket from inside out. not gonna lie your comments are one of the highlights of posting on Tumblr, I love reading them so much when you reblog my stuff. they're beautiful and always make me feel better when I'm feeling down... you were there from the days of homestuck dragons... you were always there for my ocs... You are a "real one." If I had a heart locket I'd print out your icon and put it in there along with all the other people I treasure ^_^ so yeah, definitely in the ranks... when I'm up on stage wearing a solid gold tuxedo (they had to wheel me in because I could not walk in the Solid Gold Tuxedo) and giving my speech to the world before I take it over my i will start by saying First of all I'd like to thank Mel Tumblr user Melissa-titanium On Tumblr for always hyping me up... could not have made it this far without him. And then I'd press the doomsday button and blow up every world leader.

I wish I could respond with something that appropriately returns the energy of what you sent me, but this is all I've got. Just know I am vibrating in my chair right now... hope you got some sleep!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[mister-mykal]

9-1-1 8x06 Thoughts on the Buck, Eddie, and Tommy of it all

Okay I have like almost no followers, which makes sense because I usually only normally lurk here. I'm also sure none of my followers are into 9-1-1 here, but I just need to scream into the void on the off chance someone sees this. None of my friends watch this show so I really just hope even just one person reads this and makes me feel a little less foolish because a lot of the discourse here is so "us vs them" and black-and-white. This is gonna be obnoxiously long, so I don't expect anyone to read all this, if any of it, but I'll put a TL;DR at the end. I will not be bashing Tommy or Eddie in this post! Also I'm typing while it's late for me and my ADHD makes me a horrible proofreader, so sorry for typos and the such.

I hate fandom drama, I cannot care less about whatever beef bucktommy stans and buddie stans have I've been trying to mostly ignore it. I'm just upset if this ends up being sloppy writing on the 9-1-1 team's part. I'm gonna try to be nuanced about how I felt about 8x06 because I feel like there is a way to do this and not completely screw the writing for either Tommy or Eddie.

Tommy does not have to be endgame, that is fine. I think Eddie is definitely more popular with the fans and plenty of people love a good slow burn. Their chemistry is also undeniable. But plenty of people enjoy Tommy too, despite his cavalcade of haters. And to have thrown away what seemed like a character arc in the making for him seems like a waste if this is the last we see of him? I hear he's going to be in at least one more episode, so I hope they do that justice. I don't need them back together, I just need this to make better sense.

I know people really hate Lou and Tommy, but I'm pretty neutral about him. (Idk how true the very little things I've see about Lou is because I keep hearing he's homophobic, misogynistic, racist, etc. but I have not be able to find any receipts. If it is true, that sucks and I get why they would try to write someone like that out of the show. However, just I'm gonna focus on it from purely a story perspective right now.) I enjoy seeing Buck happy after all the shit he's gone through in his past relationships. I was cautiously optimistic from the interviews that said he was finally "getting of the hamster wheel". But yet again, Buck loves with his whole heart and has his hopes dashed. It would have been one thing if Buck was the one who ended things, but really? This again? He doesn't need his heart broken AGAIN. I don't care who Buck ends up with, I just want him to be happy and secure with whatever partner he chooses.

Why bring back a previously established character who has some growing to do and then throw them away again? Boooo, if they wanted Buck and Eddie's queer awakening arcs to happen separately, and weren't interested in expanding Tommy's character, they should have just set up Buck with random throwaway guy. Otherwise it's just drama for the sake of drama instead of something that's in greater service to the narrative or character writing. Tommy becoming Eddie's friend first especially feels too intentional. Tommy already having established relationships with Hen, Chim, and Bobby feels too intentional.

Tommy's insecure feelings over Buck eventually choosing someone else, likely Eddie, over him is incredibly real and make sense. He's never felt like he's had a place to belong in general. He's jealous of the 118, he's jealous and threatened by Eddie's relationship with Buck. Honestly, I also wouldn't be surprised if Eddie was the one who caught his eye at first because it's not that hard to clock Eddie if we're being honest. It's pretty clear Tommy was baffled that Buck was fighting to get his attention over Eddie's. Why set up this arc and end it before it's even started? If there's a ever a starting point for Tommy to grow, it's right here and now. Otherwise it makes no sense.

At the same time, Eddie's character writing makes ZERO sense if he isn't a deeply closeted gay man (or at least asexual, but that's unlikely, especially with the way they've been positioning Buck and Eddie for the longest, and especially the way they position Eddie and the Hot That whole interaction with the hot priest and the mustache, beard, fruit juice, plenty of metaphor we all picked up on that. Never has an actual straight character said "no offense, I'm straight" like that within the context of the surrounding narrative. Like come on? Denying yourself FRUIT JUICE? Denying yourself joy?? which gay used to be a synonym for? Girl, please. And even with Josh's speech a bit? I think it's obvious enough that it could also be extended to Eddie, even though he's closer to Buck's age. Growing up Catholic is pretty rough for queer people.

On top of the fact that there are plenty of other hints while he did/does have love for Shannon, it was almost always in the context of that she is the mother of his child. He literally had a panic attack over someone mistaking Ana for his wife, and over their relationship starting to get serious. Ana is a lovely lady that most men that are attracted to women would be happy to have... so what's the issue, really? And then he only thinks about staying with her simply because she could be the new mother to his child. Be so for real.

And Eddie honestly has been pretty awful to the women he has dated, and you can either choose to read that as him being a chauvinistic, exploitative pig (doesn't really align with the rest of his character), or someone deeply in the closet who doesn't really want to be with a woman. (yeah, that's sounds more accurate.)

We can reconcile all of this though. Buck more than likely has romantic feelings for Eddie, I think it'd be silly to think otherwise, but even though Buck has figured out who he is, it doesn't mean Eddie has yet. He's made progress, but he has at least a little ways to go left. As far as Buck knows, Eddie is straight in this moment. He's never hesitated to write him off as his "best friend", while Eddie... well, he'll realize he's in love with Buck soon enough.

Still, I feel like it's a bit disingenuous to say that Buck doesn't care about Tommy at all, he is clearly hurt by the break up. At the very least, even if they don't get back together at all, they need to talk this out like adults and have Tommy explain himself better, because it's obvious Tommy has walls from from past experiences. Doesn't make it okay that he did Buck like that, but no one on this show has been perfect so... 🙄 At the very least we should get that one episode from that "See you around, Buck" (Ouch, Tommy. Though I feel like that was more so Tommy distancing himself to Buck to protect himself more than to hurt Buck.) Though just as easily, we might only ever see him here and there again on calls that require air support so who knows. 🤷🏾

There were some pretty obvious parallels set up between Abby and Tommy this episode. Abby and Tommy were both firsts for Buck, they're both around the same, older age. Both of them are experienced and life and deeply lonely, so how could they possibly turn away someone who has as much love to give as Buck does? Both of them are, seemingly, just stepping stones on Buck's way to self discovery. Buck even says it himself, he calls their relationships "transformative", but obviously because the experiences Tommy has had as an older queer man, he's probably not a stranger to beings someone's flyover until they get to their actual destination. I understand why he would want to protect himself like that.

Even if that's the case, I don't think Buck would want to leave things like this. I know in one of the interviews Oliver says Buck is be heavily considering if he wants to fight for this or not, but at the very least I hope they've shown his growth and showcase his emotional intelligence by calling out Tommy that it's not fair to him to sorta decide how he feels, even if it is Buck's first relationship with a man.

It's far from Buck's first relationship and idk, it feels a little icky to tell the bi person to go fool around a be a slut when he's said that he's tired of sleeping around and wants to settle down. That can just be a character flaw with Tommy (I've met plenty of biphobic monosexual queer people), but at the very least can't Buck call him out on it? Let them have a more mature, complete conversation and let Tommy say the quiet part aloud. At the very least, I get Tommy's intention, he doesn't want Buck to have any regrets, but I don't think he knows just how much he's hurt him and how many times he's been through the situation.

Something really upsetting, even though Tommy has had his problems and hasn't been the greatest person, really sad about any closeted queer person who's been nasty, but much of it came from circumstance, not getting a chance to grow after they literally set that up with the script. Well, you do you I guess. At the very least if Tommy is nothing more than a plot device, couldn't you have let Buck come to conclusion they should break up and give him even an ounce of power in his romantic pursuits for once? Instead of the one loving too hard and too fast and hurting from it? The interview where (I don't remember who exactly) said we wont be seeing much more of Tommy, if at all really annoys me because if this is it? Ugh. That break up didn't feel conclusive at at all.

TL;DR: Wasting a previously established character as a plot device after setting up what seemed like some sort of character arc for him even if he wasn't Buck's endgame seems like really sloppy writing if you decide to discard him back into the obscurity for the rest of the series. It feels like a cheap way to add extra drama and the implications and situations you could create from at least dragging this out a little bit more could create a more satisfying resolution to this at the very least. Why retread old ground again when you said that you wouldn't and waste all the potential you were setting this up with this scenario? It still seems unresolved, so hopefully this tie this up, regardless of who Buck ends with in the end (because the focus really should be on Buck finally getting the love and care that he deserves in a romantic relationship, or at least getting to end one amicably.)

Anyway tear me apart, ignore me, whatever. IDC anymore.

[strangestofthings12]

This is going to be a very rambling and venty post cause im tired and annoyed and honestly am just using this to vent my anger/hurt. there is going to be stuff that can maybe be seen as anti tommy/bucktommy (please dont tell me a ship name to put i dont care about if they do have an agreed upon ship name right now) so if you dont want that please just move on. i dont want to fight i just want to yell into the void on a stupid throw away account so i dont bring my negativity stew and come out on my main blog where i just want to enjoy my stuff and just keep happy energy. I dont normally post and try and just find someone who explains it better because im not great and getting what im saying across or understood the way i want, so please bear with me. With that said i will move on to what i want to say

Okay so i have been watching 9-1-1 for years and i love and adore it. Its characters and dynamics and i have always loved found family. Now i will admit that i started watching it thinking that Buck and Eddie were a couple and had a son so i was kinda watching for it. Do i think if i didn't start watching thinking that i would ship them still yes 100%. I have always loved their relationship and i have loved watching both Buck and Eddie grow and start to be happy while also having each others back even at the worst times. Sometimes if i think to hard about Eddie and start crying cause I'm very normal about this show and it characters. Now Eddie is my favorite character in the show and at least in my top five overall favorite characters. I love him and his development and i adore seeing how much he does to just do right by Chris even when he messes up you can tell how much he adores that boy and how badly he wants to give Chris the best life possible. I could write essays about Eddie Diaz trying to explain how much i love him and why and i think words would run out before i could finish making people understand. Buddie is my favorite ship (sometimes second depending on my mood. i would say sorry but Henren and Madney will always be amazing ships and sometimes i just cant stop think about them)(Sorry Bathena i love you too i swear i just cant decide if i wanna kiss athena or be adopted by bobby and athena:( Its confusing) and has been for quite awhile and is one of my overall favorites and its one of my comfort ships.

With that context when bi Buck happened i was so insanely happy and i wouldnt shut up about it. it made me sick. i was so happy for Buck and while i think a part of me will always be a little sad Eddie wasnt his first kiss with a guy i dont think either of them are ready for that. i also understand that it wouldnt make sense for how the story is going right now. Now i have nothing against bucktommy in the show. I have watched the kiss scene and sobbed to much to pretend like i hate them or even dislike them. However I genuinely dont care about Tommy. Hes kinda bland and i forget about him half the time and before they brought him back i completely forgot his name. in my mind he was the one that wasnt as much of an asshole to chim and hen as the other two assholes which wasnt saying a lot. Now I dont dislike tommy nor am i going to act like hes irredeemable because neither Chim nor Hen seem to think hes still that guy and while they dont seem super close they seem to get along so clearly, he's not like that anymore. I have nothing that makes me dislike him nor do I like him. He's just there. He's just the guy buck kissed. Thats all he means to me. I would give up his screen time for Ravi or May or Karen in a heartbeat. because i love them cause they mean something to me. I don't think i thought about the fact that people might actually like him especially not more than EDDIE.

This is where the context matters cause i am to my core a one ship per person girly. I might see a ship and people who like it and even think thats not a terrible ship but i will still only look at content for my ship for that person (ie. i ship Destiel (dont say anything bad about them ill cry<3) but i can see the way someone would also ship Dean and Benny or crowley or Cas and Crowley or Mick but i will ignore the ship and move on and look at more Dean and Cas). normally i will just ignore the ship and move on because im not who its for. If it gets annoying in my tag or anything like that ill block it or whoever is annoying me cause its not a them problem that i dont want to see it. When i start to have a problem is when multiple people arent tagging right for whatever reason or people who are being rude about the ship i like because of their ship. When I started seeing Bucktommy stuff more and more in the 9-1-1 tag i went to the buddie tag cause i dont want to see them. my problem is that when im reading on AO3 and click on a fic tagged Buddie where bucktommy get married. it was literally just hurting Eddie. There was stuff before like id be scrolling though the buddie tag here and see someone saying that Tommy is a better character then Eddie and saying that they hope bucktommy is endgame. Whatever block and move on. Just like always but then people who have shipped buddie for years who ive seen talk about them are suddenly saying that they like bucktommy better. People who started watching because of bucktommy saying they dont like Eddie. People are going to have different opinions but it still bugged me. and then i read that and i was just hurt because it was tagged happy ending and i cannot fathom ever thinking Eddie hurting and pining is a happy ending. So i started to get more annoyed and i hate when that happens especially with a show i love and a character i dont dislike so i tried to just move on but more and more people are taking about it then i saw someone saying that they wanted eddie to die so buck and tommy can have Chris.

I just hate that so many people are jumping on the bucktommy train and saying that they like it better than buddie something that is so good and sweet or saying that they like Tommy more than Eddie. I just dont get it cause Tommy is boring. like yeah we now some about him and he flies a helicopter but hes forgettable he could be a completely different person and next to nothing would have to change. We have seen Eddie at his worst and claw his way back up and hes finally letting himself be open and honest and soft. Eddie couldnt be replaced. Now im not saying Tommy can't be an interesting character but as he is right now?? He just isnt. Hes just as bland as every women (minus Taylor and Shannon) Buck and Eddie have dated and been hated on for no reason!!! Like i get that Tommy is a guy and we got canon Bi Buck and people are happy but those same people turn around and shit on Marisol from what ive seen(I could be wrong cause again i have done my best to avoid). Buddie fans arent safe from that either, cause we all know that Buddie fans do that but so many of those people who hated on them and said they didnt want them with anyone else suddenly decided that they were okay if Buck ended up with any guy. I dont know its just weird and i hate how many people are acting like Eddie isnt always going to be better then Tommy. Part of me wanted Tommy to stick around and help Buck and Eddie figure it all out but now?? i honestly just cant wait for him to be gone cause I want to have fun and read fics for my comfort ship and just chill where i can see all of my ships in the show without buck and tommy being everywhere or people saying crap about Eddie.

I have more to say but most of its about how gratifying waiting and seeing where this whole thing goes(Buddie season 8 PLEASE!!) and this is already why to long and i think im just going in circles and none of this makes sense so ima shut up for now and hopefully this will help it not fester and drive me insane and become a tommy hater

Edit: but i also hate that Tommy calls Buck Evan so he already had some stuff against him rip

[demodraws0606]

Okay so I have made a really bad post trying to descredit Eden taking the tape as something super important so I'm just gonna drop the actual post I was preparing instead of trying to catch Eden!Culprit theories with a half baked post.

The main issue I'm having with Eden!Culprit theories right now is mostly because of stubborness that since Eden took the tape then she HAS to have done it even though if she was the culprit it would make 0 sense as to why she wouldn't just take the tape after Teruko and Ace left the room ? Like someone could've easily told her to take the tape, it's not that hard and it just makes more sense with the other evidence layed out for us.

The main reason I accepted Eden as the culprit before is because there were no possible culprits since Levi was pretty much confirmed innocent and there was still a likelyhood of Eden working for someone. However, this pretty much now rendered null and void. I swear all of this makes it sound like I have some grudge against this theory but I really need to put this subject to rest before the answer is probably revealed to us on friday. I want to make sure this theory is dead in the ground even if it's just for me personally, because it just has too many holes for me.

Also sorry if this seems mainly just a repeat of stuff I've already said, I'm not really good at structuring my posts :')

I've seen the argument that Arei actually wasn't knocked out with the turpentine because why would they bind her wrist then. However, we know she had to have been knocked because there is no struggle shown, either on her body or the floor of the playground. Weither she was suffocated or knocked out, the tape was still used on her wrist so this can't be something to be used against the idea of turpentine knocking her out. This means there is high likelyhood that it was used because it would make no sense for the culprit to just suffocate Arei before killing her (and again suffocating would show more signs of struggle than what we see on the crime scene).

There's also no other items that Arei could've been suffocated with other than the rope which would've left marks, the ball of starch clearly is stuck together most likely by turpentine which means it would've been used to knock out someone.

This would mean the culprit had to have used the turpentine to knock out Arei as well, meaning the culprit had to have gotten their hands on the turpentine.

I also refuse the idea of Eden trying to kill Ace, not only because I just find it ridiculous from a character standpoint but mainly because we know it was Hu's murder weapon that was used against Ace (the wire) considering there is no evidence of any other wire existing in this killing game that would be sharp enough to slice someone's throat. Hu's wire is part of the weapons which is evidence alone that it would be sharp enough to harm Ace bc otherwise what purpose does a wire serve. I don't believe for a second that Hu would just have her weapon lying around for anyone to yoink, unlike the turpentine which we know had to have been used by Nico and Rose when they were painting together.

In fact the story has made it clear how complicated taking someone weapon's is by having Arei's weapon only being available after she discarded it. The same can be said of the turpentine which was used out in the open and would make it easy to take with Rose's absent mindedness. If taking someone's weapon was just as easy as that, they wouldn't have given us the scene of Arei throwing out her rope like that in the first place.

Eden also has no reason to want to replicate Ace's murder onto Arei, there's basically no logical motivation behind that. In fact the progression between Ace's attempted and Arei's succesful murder proves alone that it's the same culprit (if the turpentine's existence wasn't enough). We can see the progression of the culprit trying to avoid the same mistakes they committed with Ace's failed murder (trying to snap Arei's neck to avoid the possibility of her getting saved last minute like Ace, bounding her hands potentially to make her more stable to lift upwards).

We don't even know if she figured out how the murder even worked considering it was completely undone when Teruko and Eden saw it.

Even the timing of when Eden knew about the clothing is off. We know the ball of clothing is probably sticky due to the turpentine because there is no other leads to explain why this ball of clothing is even a thing in this murder case. Turpentine is both clear and sticky, which would explain how the ball of clothing is both clear of stains and sticking together like that. Considering also that we know for a fact Ace was knocked out, and I don't think the culprit straight just shoved a jar of turpentine on his face, they most likely used some sort of tissue to smother them with (meaning it couldn't have been used to asphexiate Arei). This means the ball of clothes was used in Ace's attempted murder.

Eden only knew about the clothing change from Hu, we can only assume the same day that Ace's was murdered and probably not long before the attempt. This both clears Eden going to the changing room as the ""ball of starch"" was most likely already created before that, the only arguemnt it could be used for is that she was trying to retrieve it but it barely makes sense.

In terms of the timing of when Eden knew about the clothes and Ace's murder, if Hu only told her the same night that Ace was almost murdered it makes the timing insanely more difficult to justify. Unlike Hu who would have the pieces ready way more in advance.

All of these contradictions cannot be debunked by saying "well Eden took the tape", as it could easily be explained by the culprit asking her to take the tape from the gym or her just taking it without purpose and then the culprit getting their hands on it later.

The Eden!Culprit theory is barely hanging onto one piece of shakey evidence that can easily be broken by one justification.

If Nico can't be the culprit despite having the turpentine (well I don't think they do but 99 pourcent of Eden!culprit theories rely on Eden not really committing the attempted murder of Ace) then Eden doesn't have to be the culprit taking the tape.

The only way you can argue Eden is the culprit is if she tried to kill Ace, however this is impossible because of Hu's weapon. This is basically the summary of my main issue with the whole Eden!Culprit theory.

[clockworksteel]

The Void Rains Upon Her Heart: Veyerals

So, the Veyerals. The monster type that shares a name with Veyeral Games. Perhaps the most plot-important monster type, although that can't be fully said when the plot hasn't all been released. The monsters of the Purple Tetrids of Loneliness. Although, I'm seeing there isn't actually a monster that produces Purple Tetrids, so that's odd. [Energy Tank Power Gift][Full Prism Bounty Gift][Veyeral Sigil Bounty Gift] Guess the post is over.

Okay, but seriously. They do exist.

"Veyerals are creatures from the void. They are attracted to feelings of loneliness and they infect any life that they come across. Those that have been infected are driven mad by extreme loneliness until the Veyerals completely take over their mind." [Two Purple Bonus Gift] "All Veyerals seem to have the same goal, not to take a life, but to convince a life to end itself. They die along with their host. Is that really what they want?" [Three Purple Bonus Gift]

Besides needing to watch out for dying with a host, Veyerals are also attacked on sight by the monster type I haven't covered yet, the Zaramechs [Two Blue Bonus Gift].

In terms of physical appearance, Veyerals are eyeball monsters. Often they'll have some sort of elemental orbs they use, but the typical main body is gonna be round with a single eye. Their species name is probably pronounced like "Viral" due to saying the embedded "eye" that way. Speaking of names, Veyerals don't have typical names, instead having descriptive titles like "Burning Veyeral" and "Voltage Veyeral". [Purple Mote Bounty Gift] Many Veyerals, especially those that haven't taken on an element, are pretty dark. It has been said that "Veyerals are so dark that they don't reflect any light" [Voltage Veyeral My Notes] and if you look at them "it looks like there's a blind spot on your eyeball. Just a small amount of blue light escapes from their body." [redacted My Notes] A select few have Zaranoid forms, but it doesn't seem to be part of the species as a whole. [various story events]

In terms of abilities, it seems Veyerals mostly absorb attributes from the environment and use those. Molten Veyeral apparently ended up Molten because of finding a source of warmth and never letting go [Molten Veyeral My Notes], however, they don't actually feel anything as they do so, which they find disappointing [Warmth Power Gift]. Venom Veyeral rolled around in toxic chemicals, also hoping to feel something [Venom Veyeral My Notes]. When they haven't lit themselves on fire, they are apparently cold. [Warmth Power Gift, again]

They, or at least a special one called Void, may also have some form of telepathy, which they use to drive others to despair. Perhaps it's part of their parasitic loneliness. This may explain the memory text of the Chrome Heart Quick Gifts:

Chrome Heart: When I see my reflection, I hear a voice. It knows how to destroy me. It sounds just like me, but that isn't me.

Chrome Duo: That's not me. Is that me? I can't recognize myself. I've become someone else. I was me, but now she's gone.

Chrome Trio: You think you're in the one in control anymore? Take a look at your reflection! HahAhaHaAhaHAahaAhaHA

Returning to the idea of their absence, my own personal speculation about why Zaraden Society doesn't know there's a monster type that produced Purple Tetrids falls into two main ideas:

Maybe they really did go extinct, or nearly so, but came back later. Between their own behavior of dying along with their host and being hunted by Zaramech, they seem more at-risk than other monster types. Perhaps the Zaraden practice of throwing wingless into the pit produced too many hosts too quickly.

Maybe, being creatures of loneliness, they're repelled by large populations and just haven't been discovered, even though they've been around the whole time.

That said, there seems to be a difference between what the purple bonus gifts say about Veyerals and how some of the present Veyerals act. Rather than infecting hosts and dying alongside them, it seems Veyerals now have a "mother" called "Void" that they deliver hearts to, which are then absorbed, and that they can do this many times. [Blue Hug]. Maybe whatever incident brought about the unending rain also caused Void and these new Veyerals to appear? Additionally, most of the Veyerals we see can feel love when the main characters share it with them and are happy to play games or hang out together, which seems like a contrast from the parasitic killers they're depicted as, though that may just be how powerful love is. I don't think there are answers in the current version, but it's fun to think about.

Still, there are some indications that Veyerals do still try to infect and bring down a host besides Void. Several Veyeral burdens address "you" rather than being about the Veyeral's own internal struggle, such as "You are lacking in color. You can join me in dullness. No amount of color can fix you" [Vibrant Veyeral Burden] or "You are lacking in warmth. You can join me in burning. Take your place inside the fire with me." [Burning Veyeral Burden]. It feels like the same tactics Void uses to try to bring down the main character. Perhaps even if there are new Veyerals that act differently, some of the old Veyerals remained?

Anyway, getting away from my own thoughts and speculations, let's get the usual thoughts from the Mote Monster on the theme emotions of the relevant Tetrids: Burden: So this is the feeling of loneliness? The purpose of this feeling is to let you know when to seek companionship and comfort from another. But if there is no one else around, this becomes a deadly poison. You are not made to feel this for very long. Blessing: So this is the feeling of belonging? You accept all these monsters as they are. You understand how they feel and they understand how you feel. This is why you can win them over so easily. They- We accept you too.

Finally, let's get some specific Veyerals and screenshots: Veyeral Rain, who wish experience dreams, although Veyerals cannot dream on their own. In an event, you can share yours with them again. Despite how many Veyerals there are in this group encounter, "somehow they always end up talkinga bout how lonely they are. [Veyeral Rain My Notes]

Phase 1 consists mainly of small summons that bounce around, shoot lasers, or shoot red bullets, while a constant rain effect happens (screenshot taken at minimum fight level with the HUD disabled).

Phase 2 includes the appearance of a slightly larger main body

And here's one that's not a black ball with a red eye, though it is common for that to be the main body of a Veyeral. Storm Veyeral wants to be loved, but uses thunder to scare people away [Storm Veyeral My Notes]. Zaraden, or at least the first main character are pretty scared of thunder, so I would imagine that's a pretty effective strategy for Storm Veyeral at, uh, not getting what she wants. [Thunder Power Gift]

Electricity often crackles across her surface, but it doesn't look good in screenshots so I got a shot without any.

Also, a fun fact I hadn't really noticed before taking these screenshots: the main eye of most Veyerals tracks the player. I'm usually focused more on the bullets.

[fea-resources]

Managing Your Drafts/Ask Count: A Roleplayer Guide

"I have so many drafts / asks right now. I'm feeling overwhelmed!"

Does this sound familiar? If it's not you personally, you probably know at least a good dozen roleplayers on your dash who have said some variation of this.

Overload and draft/ask stress is a pretty common problem in the RPC. I've seen some accounts that go well over 1,000 drafts! More than on one occasion. Yikes. That's super stressful!

So how do you manage that? And manage it in a way that keeps your followers / mutuals happy? Here's a few easy tips! From someone who has never let their draft count go over 50.

Set A Draft / Ask Limit For Yourself

The first and easiest step is to impose limits on how many drafts and asks you accumulate in the first place!

If you start feeling overwhelmed with answering things once you hit 30 drafts/asks, don't just keep pressing for more interactions until you start hitting double or even triple digits! Figure out where your comfort zone is and stick to that.

If you go a tiny bit past that (you set your limit to 30 drafts, but you have 31), that's okay! Just be careful about not using leniency as an excuse to move your own goal posts. If your limit is 30, allow yourself to go to 31, but don't start moving to 40 drafts, then 50, then 100. This is how you get yourself dug into a hole you can't get out of!

Set A Time Limit On Everything Before It Gets Deleted / Dropped

Yes, it sucks not having Asks answered and threads dropped, but it happens. Sometimes the muse just isn't musing for something, and that's totally fine!

If its an actual dedicated thread or a very special tailored custom Ask or Starter, I would recommend communicating it with your partners before yeeting it into the void, but if its just a random ask from a meme list, especially if you've already got 20 other things going with the person who sent it, you're probably safe to throw it away without much fuss. Chances are your partners won't even remember half the Asks they sent, especially if they're repeat customers who send you a lot of things.

The fact of the matter is, if something is clearly never going to be answered, there's no problem just dropping it. Otherwise its just going to be another number in an ever-increasing pile of things you're never going to answer stressing you out!

Set general time limits, like if it hasn't been answered in 2 months, it gets thrown away (unless its just one particular super ultra special ask/thread you DEFINITELY want to answer, you just haven't been able to yet ; everything else goes in the trash).

Set A Thread / Ask Limit Per Partner

Maybe you have that one person that has 50 unfinished threads with you, but lo and behold, they want to start another one! While you're still struggling to keep up with the 50 that you have with them.

If you want to give more people an equal chance, a simple solution is to divide up that everyone gets X amount of time and effort from you.

Feel free to set limits with your partners, such as "I will only do 2 threads with each person at a time". If that person wants another thread, they will have to either complete the ones you already have, or drop some.

Likewise, you might have a rule that someone can send you 10 Asks, but you will only answer up to 2 of them that you receive. The rest get deleted.

The same goes in reverse. If you already have whatever number of interactions you want with a particular person, you don't have to send them more interactions yourself until activity has dropped off enough that you want to create extra engagement to fill the void of whatever other interactions you had that used to be there.

If you're really determined to give all your partners an equal chance at interaction, this is a good route to consider going with.

Curate Your Mutuals List / How Many People You Follow And Interact With

Another one of the easy ways to deal with Draft / Ask stress: Don't follow too many people to begin with!

If someone follows you, you don't have to automatically follow them back, especially if they have a muse or universe you're unfamiliar with or not particularly interested in.

Setting yourself up to interact with muses or universes which barely hold your attention or that you struggle to figure out how to interact with is just setting yourself up to have a lot of unanswered stuff that never goes anywhere.

This is as frustrating for you as its going to become for the other person.

Likewise, only follow back and interact with the people you actually have the time and energy for. Mind you, there are ways to still effectively manage your blog if you're low energy, but that should come after you've found a comfortable number of people to keep up with, not after you're already overwhelmed!

Otherwise, you're bound to frustrate yourself with too many people you can't possibly interact with, and frustrate the people who follow you who aren't getting the engagement they're looking for.

Be Upfront About Playing Favorites (If You Do)

Nothing is more frustrating for both people in a writing partnership when two people who clearly aren't each others' mutual favorites try to interact.

What I mean specifically is that you have one person who tries really hard to engage, and another who barely puts in any effort unless its only for specific people.

Truth of the matter is, everyone has favorites. Some play favorites harder than others. Don't lie to people and say you treat everyone in your mutuals list equally if you don't. Lying to people about it is bound to create problems and resentments, and justifiably so! No one likes to be strung along.

What ends up happening is that you have one person putting in all kinds of effort to get nothing in return, and another person who keeps getting flooded with attempts at interaction they don't really want, adding to their pile of Things That Will Never Be Answered, adding to your stress with a high draft count.

The simple solution is be honest so your partners know what to expect. If there's only three people you ever care to answer and everyone else is a Once In A Blue Moon interaction, just tell people! They're bound to be far more forgiving about it if you set their expectations of you realistically. At worst, the person will quietly move along to interact with other people who actually put in the effort.

Delete Things That Just Don't Work For You

It happens. Sometimes we get an ask that no matter how we think about it, we can't think of how we want to answer it or a good situation we can turn it into.

Or sometimes we just get a bad ask.

You reblog that meme that has 100 options, and that one person you haven't agreed to Ship with sends the only 2 that involve something Shippy, like kissing.

Or they send the one Ask that would be completely out of character for anything your character would be involved with, like you've got a mustache-twirling villain who likes to kick kittens, and someone sent you a meme insinuating your character is catsitting out of the goodness of their heart.

If something just plain doesn't work no matter how you try to turn it around, delete it!

Alternatively, you can reach out to your partners and discuss how to turn the Ask into something. Maybe your partner had something specific in mind when they sent that particular ask, and its just not coming to you, but once you find out the vision of the sender, it'll be much easier to reply to!

Likewise, feel free to delete a few things that don't work for you if someone sends you a lot of Asks. Maybe someone sends you 10 different Asks. You don't have to answer every single one. Pick the ones that are easy to work with and delete the rest. If you answered 3 out of 10, you still answered 3, and that's good!

Stop Reblogging / Asking For More Memes

I'm not saying everyone should do this. Memes are great! They're good, easy interaction starters! Especially when you don't have a lot of interactions going already or you're stuck waiting in limbo for other people to reply back to you!

But if you're just using memes to run away from your ever-growing pile of unanswered things, stop yourself.

Chances are, at least half of your problem with being overwhelmed is that you're chronically reblogging memes when you don't actually need to be, further compounding your problem of having too many drafts and being even more overwhelmed as a result.

I get it. The instant gratification of getting something in your inbox is nice. Its a real dopamine rush that makes you feel good! At first. But its going to come back to bite you later.

Its also a good, quick way to ruin your relationship with people who want to interact with you. If someone is already waiting on you to answer a bunch of things they sent in, and you post "Wow, I'm feeling so overwhelmed right now because I have too many things I still need to answer! But send me more things!", that's bound to put a sour taste in peoples' mouths.

That tells your partners that you have an impulse problem and that they're bound to keep sending you things that will never be answered, which defeats the purpose of following another RP blog.

At worst, people will get tired of it and unfollow, ending all chance of interaction from ever happening at all.

Some people think the answer to solving this problem is to simply purge their inbox of everything or remake blogs "fresh". While these steps can help in some cases, if you never solve the underlying problem of actually managing your draft count moving forward, eventually you will just find yourself back to square one.

I've seen this happen plenty of times, where people purge or remake a good two, five, ten different times to make a fresh slate, only to go back to the same problem given a little bit of time, because they never took any other steps to stop from ending up in the same situation. They got rid of their draft pile, but never addressed the habits that got them there in the first place.

A good, easy first step in that is to stop endlessly reblogging memes when you already have a pile of them just sitting unanswered.

Instead of letting everything pile up to unmanageable levels and keep asking for more, prioritize going through what you already have first. Answer whatever you're able to, talk to your partners about Asks or threads you're unsure of, delete anything that you know for a fact won't go anywhere.

Then, once you've dealt with the things you already have, then you can reward yourself by reblogging more Memes and Starters and whatever else you want!

Don't Lie To Your Mutuals (Or Yourself) About Guarantees To Answer EVERYTHING

I've seen this a few times before. Someone talks about how they have over a thousand drafts, but they swear up and down to their dashboard that they answer EVERYTHING they receive, so keep sending in more!

Don't do this.

The moment I see someone saying something like this is usually the moment they instantly earn an unfollow / soft block from me, because I know they're completely full of it.

These are the people who chronically never answer anything and end up blog-hopping because they let it get so out of control that the only way forward was to purge or completely remake their blog fresh, often multiple times.

This kind of rhetoric will also establish you as a liar in the eyes of your mutuals, especially your mutuals who never get any engagement while they watch you reply only to the same five people and everyone else is just a number to brag about collecting.

There's nothing wrong with acknowledging the fact that you simply cannot and won't answer every tiny thing you receive. That kind of unrealistic expectation placed upon yourself is just going to end up creating problems for both you and your mutuals.

Learn to let some interactions and Asks go unanswered, and be honest with people that that is the case! You're a human being with finite time, not a writing machine, and your partners are more than just a number for you to collect and ignore.

Yes, announcing you're going to be dropping or deleting things may lose you followers, especially the ones who keep going unanswered, but it shouldn't really bother you if you weren't going to be giving those people proper engagement anyway.

Plot With People If Interactions Aren't Happening Organically

Everyone has their own style of RP and how heavily they want to plot things. Some people need things heavily plotted, others just like to wing it. Sometimes the heavy plotter ends up with the wing-it roleplayer.

Regardless, sometimes an answer to an Ask or Thread just won't come to you. Maybe your partner had something in mind already or a direction they want to take things, while you're just scratching your head with nothing.

Sometimes, getting to answering things is as simple as reaching out to discuss it with your partners!

Of course, there are times where this goes nowhere. Maybe both of you are stumped or didn't really think very far ahead. Maybe its just not vibing with either of you. Maybe you or your partner suck at communication and brainstorming. That's fine! But at least if you reach out, you can say you tried before dropping something!

And it gives you a chance to discuss doing something else that does work instead of such is the case!

Create Side-Blogs For Organization and Bookmark Purposes

The great thing about tumblr is you can basically create however many blogs and side-blogs you want to!

Let's say you're scrolling the dash and you see some neat stuff you want to save, but not reblog. Maybe its a PSA post. Maybe its a gifset. Maybe its a funny canon information/fanon post you saw and want to look back on.

Don't save "other" things in the same place as your Drafts and Asks go!

When you start mixing in "other" posts with your Drafts, your drafts are going to look even bigger and more daunting than they already are! Chances are you're not keeping a mental count all the time about those 50 other "drafts" you have mixed in with your real drafts.

Make a side-blog (or a Personal) for saving all those other completely unrelated things on! This will help keep your actual draft and Ask count in perspective, otherwise you might be stressing about having so many drafts when you actually have a lot less of them than you thought!

Use The Queue

If you find a lot of your problem comes down to having too many things at once, or your partners reply to your threads too fast so you can never make a dent in them, then you can always Queue up your posts to spread them out!

You can even customize how often and at what time frames your Queue posts things to the dash, which will slow down how fast you receive replies and allow you to get through things at a more comfortable pace.

You can always alternate using it as much as you want, such as using the Queue when you have a high volume of things to answer or return activity, and then publish things in real time or push things through the Queue faster as you like when things are going slow!

Prioritize Easiest / Favorite Drafts First (But Don't Do Them Exclusively)

This one is fairly easy, and I think most people already do this intuitively. The problem is, a lot of people do this, and then that's where they stop. They end up doing their favorites exclusively, instead of only doing them first, while letting everything else just rot in their drafts, never actually touching them.

But there's a good reason to prioritize easy and favorite threads first, especially when paired with the queue or other partners who are slower to reply. It's the easiest and fastest way to reduce your draft count and make it less daunting to deal with, without deleting and dropping things entirely.

Then you can focus on the other unanswered things that aren't speaking as easily to you, and get through those.

This step works, but only if you actually commit to answering the other stuff that you have to actually think about next. If you just answer your favorite things, and then do something like, say... immediately run to tell people to send you more memes and starters instead, you are falling back into the trap of overwhelming yourself with things you're never actually going to answer.

Instead, try to knuckle down and work on what you already have, whenever possible.

Prioritize Oldest Drafts First

Okay, so you've already gone through and answered the easiest stuff first! (Or maybe you didn't). Great!

Now what?

While this one isn't strictly an issue having to do with Draft Count, I find some people have insecurity about answering things simply because they're old.

While this inevitably happens to everyone at some point, as some threads or Asks may not be speaking to you until much later, I find that one thing that helps with this is to prioritize the oldest replies / first come first serve as much as possible!

Go to the oldest things you have, sit on them for a few minutes. Try to think of something, and work on that reply. If you try to work on it and its still not coming to you, then go on to the next second-oldest thing you have. Rinse and repeat.

Personally, I rarely have things sitting super old unless I just end up in a straight up writer's slump/block, because I prioritize oldest things first whenever possible, which helps to never have super old stuff just sitting there forever, taunting me.

This way, you're avoiding thoughts like "oh god, but they sent that thing 5 months ago. Should I really answer it at this point? Do they even want it anymore??".

Instead, you're replacing it with "Oh, they only sent that 3 days ago. That's not too bad."

Doing it like this means that my turn-around time is seldom ever so slow that I stress about how long its been.

Don't Be Afraid To Sit On Something For A While

Yes, we've talked a lot about deleting things if you just can't think of anything. And sometimes that is the correct and obvious answer! Likewise, sometimes we get something we need to set aside (but not forget about).

The more you manage the rest of your draft count, the easier this is to do without getting overwhelmed about it!

You don't have to just delete everything that doesn't immediately spring out at you. You can set some things aside however long you want to, just be careful not to use "I'll answer it later" to feed your bad habit of Draft Collection.

If you managed to answer 25 other threads and Asks, but those last 5 are just giving you a lot of trouble, that's totally fine! Even the best of us get hit with that sometimes. It doesn't always mean its time to delete them. Sometimes you sit scratching your head for a month, and then one day, the answer to that thread just comes to you!

But be honest with yourself about it. Are you really going to answer that thread, after you have some time to think on it? Are you really really going to answer it? Or are you lying to yourself and your partners? If not, there's no shame in dropping it.

Close Your Inbox

So let's say you're personally taking all the right steps you need to to manage your workload, but people are still trying to send you more things than you can handle to your Ask box.

You always have the option to simply close your inbox from receiving any new activity! Whether you just turn off Anon (not because of receiving hate, that's another topic altogether, just regular activity) or the entire Ask box, you can limit or entirely halt inbox activity from receiving anything new for a while until you have what you currently already owe into a comfortable and easy to manage state!

Yes, this means people won't be able to send you more, new things, and if they want to message you, they will have to do so through a different avenue (such as IMs or discord), but if you're already too overwhelmed with what you have, you don't need more activity.

Don't Keep People Around Who Make Your Dash Uncomfortable

And finally, though a bit of a sad truth, some people just make the tumblr dash a very uncomfortable place to be.

Maybe they stir up drama. Maybe they don't tag triggers (or they use stupid fancy tags that can't be filtered). Maybe they write too much of a topic or fandom you don't like to see. Maybe they write nothing but OOC and treat their RP blog as their personal blog. Maybe you're not even following that person, but they interact with someone you DO interact with and don't want to see them around.

Whatever the case, chances are good that if someone's presence makes your dash uncomfortable, its going to affect how well you're able to write.

Luckily, there are options available.

You can unfollow / block people.

You can filter tags and key words through tumblr.

You can use the mute function from the xKit extension.

Whether you make it public or private, you can have a DNI (Do Not Interact) saying who is and is not allowed to interact with you based on whatever criteria you set.

If people are sending you unsolicited Anons that you don't like, you can turn Anon off.

If people send you things you don't like with real or burner accounts, you can block those accounts or turn your Ask box and IMs off.

Ultimately, your tumblr blog is your space to curate, and you shouldn't let anyone else tell you otherwise. Having boundaries and expectations for how people act on your blog is your right and their privilege, not the other way around.

If other people aren't going to behave appropriately within and/or invade your yard space, you always have a right to lock people out of it by any means necessary until they either behave or leave.

Don't be afraid to do so, no matter who its coming from, even from so-called "friends" or "good people", because the only people who have a problem with you exercising your right to making your blog a good place to be for you are unsafe people who feel entitled to crossing your boundaries.