#there's no explanation for why i came up with this... but I've been regularly thinking about it for a few weeks...

[moonlight-alphafemale]

Idk, I just have an inkling that when Pickle was born, he was cross-eyed and over the years (birth-4 years old) it just kinda corrected itself...

[chelseeebe]

jinx

18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.

a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^

love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort

his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.

itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply. 

robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good. 

“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start. 

robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams. 

“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor. 

a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to. 

“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity. 

“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself. 

his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend. 

“okay,” nodding along, “i will.” 

“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers. 

who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t. 

-

sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. 

they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van. 

it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night. 

“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds. 

he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top. 

gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction. 

holy fuck. 

he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too. 

his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow. 

you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him. 

“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp. 

“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.” 

there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool. 

“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,” waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing. 

his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play. 

“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side. 

“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind. 

“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off. 

“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!” 

okay maybe he was being a little weird. 

who cares? 

definitely not eddie. 

-

this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed. 

eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead. 

but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much? 

his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own. 

fuck fuck fuck. 

why does this keep happening? 

gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage. 

if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career. 

after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him. 

though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him. 

heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm. 

“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back. 

“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse. 

“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really. 

“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along. 

“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing. 

gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust. 

eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest. 

nothing major. 

-

filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back. 

chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her. 

any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening. 

his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand. 

he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about? 

had he done something wrong? 

he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..” 

she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.” 

he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans. 

nothing. not even a twitch. 

he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift. 

so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?

“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment. 

eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go. 

“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”

no. 

“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.” 

left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van. 

just as he deserved. 

if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. 

-

another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him. 

it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story. 

he can’t stand it. 

you have to go. 

maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life. 

eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did. 

you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way. 

“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time. 

“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?” 

shit. 

he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing. 

“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”

eddie was a terrible person. 

but so were you. 

bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women 

you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway. 

that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably. 

he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close. 

it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up. 

a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights. 

that’s what he’s praying for anyway. 

-

eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage. 

at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig. 

crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod. 

but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual. 

he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say. 

“hey,” he nods, a coy smile. 

even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead. 

“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.” 

you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words. 

oh shit. 

“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”

it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out. 

guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too. 

eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for. 

wait wait wait. 

you liked him? 

you liked him?

absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.

or it’s not supposed to be. 

no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on. 

you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to. 

-

it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too. 

guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth. 

shit, maybe he was. 

kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties. 

you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved. 

gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”

eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why. 

at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was. 

but that wasn’t it. 

you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit. 

somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you. 

a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big. 

you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure. 

eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you. 

-

he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain. 

you don’t turn up that night, obviously. 

eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind. 

you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was. 

he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case. 

there’s only one place he can think about going. 

a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now. 

his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to. 

the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off. 

“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up. 

“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face. 

rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer. 

when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head. 

he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had. 

because that was it, really. 

too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too. 

somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else. 

“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you. 

eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water. 

“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter. 

woah. 

that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you. 

petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man? 

“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.

“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

-

public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you. 

well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin. 

he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check. 

“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."

he’d deserve it. 

it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help. 

you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here. 

“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”

you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it. 

your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t. 

his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in. 

-

eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played. 

a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.  

usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it. 

knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation. 

or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology. 

gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer. 

a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him. 

you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly. 

eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.

your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd. 

his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you. 

he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons. 

“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel. 

the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.” 

“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth. 

“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest. 

eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?” 

you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.” 

suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives. 

“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression. 

“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone. 

“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones. 

he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him. 

you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red. 

“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute. 

“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum. 

you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him. 

your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs. 

you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?” 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?

(🥒👌 to find later)

Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.

So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.

I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.

Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.

Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.

I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.

Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.

To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.

Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.

So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Sneak Peek

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking.

A/N : It felt weird not to post something on a Friday, so here is the first 1000 words of my next Billy fic. At the end I've put a more exhaustive explanation of the themes and potentially triggering content that might come up during the course of the story so if you're not sure if this fic is for you, I recommend checking that out. Anyway, I'm super excited for this one and I hope to have the first chapter up on the 6th of September. (I'm also testing the tag list with this post, if you want to be added let me know!) .

Sneak Peek

“So, how was your date?”

You were barely through the door when the question was mercilessly thrown your way, the few patrons drinking the afternoon away in Sam’s lifting their heads to glance your way before quickly losing interest. Thankfully, they didn’t care how your date had gone the night before nearly as much as your co-worked Jenna did.

Sam’s wasn’t exactly the sort of place where people cared to get to know each other. The bar had a reputation, the kind of reputation that regularly had cops posted outside the door, waiting to scoop up patrons at closing time, though they rarely dared set foot through the door. And that was why it suited you just fine. Aside from the occasional drunk thinking he might be lucky enough to get in your pants, people didn’t care who you were or where you were from, a courtesy you were more than happy to return.

So, while there was a snicker or two around the bar, no one but Jenna was interested in your love life.

Or, lack thereof. 

You shrugged off your jacket as you made your way around the bar, hanging it along with your purse in the small staff room before heading out to start your shift.

“So, it didn’t go well then,” Jenna stated, eyeing you up and down as you stepped out of the back.

“Hi Jenna.” You said in an overly forced, perky tone, clearly avoiding the question. “How are you, Jenna?”  

“Wow that bad?”

You’d often thought to yourself that Jenna would be better suited working for the FBI instead of tending bar; she knew how to get people to talk and she had a dogged tenacity when it came to things she wanted to know. But, fortunately for the criminal element, Jenna was only interested in gossip, bitching, and information that could be used to her advantage. She was your closest friend and a constant pain in your ass for all of the above reasons.

“Is it that obvious?” You finally relented, giving her a slither of what she craved.

The look she fixed you with was more than enough to answer the question.

“You’re wearing your fuck-me boots and that’s never a good sign,” she said with a knowing grin, obviously impressed with herself. “Wasn’t it the third date? Don’t tell me he left you high and dry...”

All it took was a slight look of disappointment on your face for less than a second for her to have the whole story.

“Oh - oh, okay,” she said and for a single, solitary second, you hoped that she’d drop it. But, of course, she didn’t. “So, how bad are we talking?”

“It wasn’t bad,” you answered, turning away from her, acting like you were checking stock, “just... disappointing.”

“He didn’t make you come?” She asked, loud enough that anyone close enough could hear. Fortunately you weren’t easily embarrassed. “I thought you said he was a doctor? Isn't he supposed to have a good grasp of… anatomy?”

Your eyes rolled as you threw her a glance over your shoulder.

“He’s a physiotherapist, not a gynaecologist.”

Not that that distinction made it any better. Disappointing sex was disappointing sex at the end of the day.

“Are you gonna see him again?” Jenna asked, biting back a laugh.

“And waste another evening on unappealing sex? No thanks. I think I’m just gonna swear off men,” you sighed dramatically, barely holding back a smirk.

“Or,” Jenna started, really drawing out that one little syllable, “maybe you need to stop only going for the safe guys and expecting Captain America to give you what you need.”

Your cheeks heated a fraction as you burst into laughter. It was a good thing that no one who could overhear understood that Captain America was what Jenna liked to call the dildo she’d bought you as a prank secret Santa gift last Christmas on account of it being a red, white and blue, unlicensed Captain America sex toy that claimed on the box to be an exact replica of Steve Roger’s dick.

It had become a private joke between the pair of you, though you’d never dare admit to her just how much mileage you’d actually gotten from the toy.

“Seriously, you need to lower your standards and find a guy who’s willing to just fuck your brains out,” Jenna continued, still utterly oblivious (or perhaps just indifferent) to the half dozen men trying to enjoy their drinks within earshot. “We could go to that biker bar just off the highway again and -”

“Aren’t we barred?” You asked. “Or, more to the point, aren’t you barred?”

“That’s what makes it more fun.”

Again, you rolled your eyes and, finally, you had a look around the bar. It was still quiet, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. As soon as it started getting dark out, the place would be packed, wall to wall.

That was when you noticed him, sat at the end of the bar, slightly hunched over and with no drink in front of him. You looked to Jenna and gave a nod in his direction, and she shrugged in response, leaving you to deal with him. If he’d overheard any of your conversation with Jenna, he didn’t seem interested. For a moment, you hung back, not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on in his head but, finally, you forced your customer service smile to lips and made your approach.

“Hey, what can I get you?” You asked.

When he looked up your heart stuttered. His face was littered with scars, but they weren’t the cause of the violent pounding in your chest, in fact, after first glance you barely noticed them. No, it was his dark eyes and the way he looked at you, the way he looked through you. For a few seconds you dared to believe you might drown in his gaze (and that maybe you’d enjoy it).

Content and general warnings going for this whole fic : while I’m going to put appropriate TWs at the start of any chapter that require them as usual, I wanted to give a general overview of what this fic might contain so people can make an informed decision whether or not to engage with this fic. If you are uncomfortable with any of the following, please consider not reading. Ultimately this is a Dark Romance and will contain themes like stalking and intimidation. At no point will it contain non-con perpetrated by Billy on the reader character, however there will be moments of unwanted kissing and physical contact, but it won’t get any worse than that. There will be explicit smut (we’re talking rough and dirty) and Billy’s actions/behaviour at times will be pretty gross. And there will be non-graphic discussions/allusions to non-con and murder, with regards to character’s pasts (i.e. Billy’s assault by Arthur) later on in the story. 

At its heart this is going to be a dark and toxic romance and it should go without saying that I don’t condone this sort of behaviour in real life. If you do not enjoy or feel you will be triggered by the aforementioned themes, please give this fic a miss.

(I'm just testing the tag list, but if you want adding/removing let me know!)

Tag List : @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @sweetserendipity65 @dreadfulxives18 @snowkestrel @ladyblacky

@readingabouthim @cheshirecat484 @broadwaybabe18 @oliviaewl

[jeffrrandell]

So how do you think mark came to dislike blonzie so strongly? (Sorry if this has been asked before 😔)

Here's my idea for this, a short (but actually very very long) explanation of their dynamic.

I think that as kids, Blonzie was always a troublemaker on his own. Very shy and felt different from everyone around him, but that's what made him believe doing crazy shit would get him attention and love. Mark was the opposite of that. He was wanted to stay out of everyone's way, and did as he was told always. Blonzie was never a bully to anybody, but Mark being the younger sibling, he'd push him around a bit.

Mark was very gullible (as most kids are anyway!), and Blonzie would often use that against him. He'd play a little rough and tease him. But (and this is coming from someone with 2 brothers, and an older brother myself) it is all out of love. With certain sibling dynamics, it's hard to say "I love you" and especially with an age gap, they are very different people in general.

With Blonzie being shy on the inside too, even around family he kept a lot to himself. Both their parents were very loving, and loved both of them dearly. But Blonzie somehow thought they still loved Mark more. It was definitely not that they loved Mark more, but Blonzie was just a little jealous of him. Him being the youngest (therefore more "spoiled") and didn't get into as much trouble as he did. Which is on him, really. But when he didn't listen to his parents he'd often try not to do it around them because he loves his family, truly he does, and feels guilty as an adult nowadays.

Their parents, despite Blonzie being closed off, knew everything anyway. Because they are his parents. Unless he was going to get severely hurt, they let him do as he pleased. And they knew about all his interests and such. But he couldn't recognize that as a kid. They also realized the gap between his and Marks relationship form.

Even if Mark can't remember these moments, and even during Blonzie "teasing him", Blonzie was always a caring older brother. He remembers all of his preferences, and would protect him from anything that scared him. He'd shoo off rabbits from the yard, bugs, would sometimes tidy up after him when he was even smaller. And probably even ACTUAL bullies in school. Always always he loved his brother like that.

As Mark got older, Blonzie felt he could up his game in picking on him because he was more mature. He'd just like to get on Marks nerves and do as he pleased, like taking his things and spending as much time on things they take turns on. Call him names that were of course harmless but still. BASICALLY, he was not a bully. Just very very annoying and nuisance.

As they grew up, Blonzies jealousy kinda stayed. He saw Mark, who was also shy, bloom into confidence and get an actual friend group, go to college. Blonzie likes crowds around him and people cheering on his stunts, but none of those people that like him like that would he consider people he could hang out with regularly. Mark achieved things that Blonzie felt he couldn't.

Nothing feels worse than feeling JEALOUS of your YOUNGER BROTHER. Its a double edged sword. On one side, he's jealous and wishes he could almost be like him. On another, he's proud of his little bro. No matter what side has the most power, he wants to be in his life again.

Blonzie has a hard time saying "I love you" as much as he has a hard time with saying "sorry" and also has a bad memory. So he attempts to get back into Marks life. As I've said, in general, Mark and Blonzie are very different people. Blonzie does crazy stunts, stupid shit, some people love him some hate him. And Mark just doesn't want anything to do with it, even if he worries too.

But Blonzie trying to get back into his life felt out of nowhere. In Marks head it was like "Why are you pretending you weren't a jerk to me all those years?" Because he really does just try to "put it all behind them" and stuff. And yeah, a lot of his visits are just him being annoying on purpose. But he wants Mark to see that that is how he shows his love. He'll never straight up confess it, but he gets happy seeing his brother in magazines. He's happy he found someone to love. He loves his brother. And he can say that to Mark, but now, Mark is the one who finds it hard to say it back. It's almost as if Blonzie "boy who cried wolf'd" himself. It's hard to believe anything Blonzie says because of how much he'd make up and tell Mark. It's hard to take him seriously when everything was a joke to him back then.

And yes, with all of that, Mark loves Blonzie as much as Blonzie loves Mark. He doesn't approve of his stunting, but worries he doesn't have a "real" job. (He does, but Mark doesn't take the time to listen to him.) He worries that he struggles on a daily basis. All that's pushed aside when he remembers he's a grown man, and can always go to their parents if he's struggling that bad.

Their parents are aware of their strained relationship. They don't try to fix it, and they're not mad but a little bit sad if anything. They wish they could get along, but it seems they never really did. Once again they love both of them. Mark and Blonzie both talk to their parents on the phone a lot, and a lot of the time THAT is how they get updates on each other's lives. They will tell each other about what they saids been going on. Mark will usually roll his eyes, still listen, but just be a bit meh about it. Blonzies ears perk up and gets excited to hear about his brother. The one who's less willing to open up nowadays than he is.

This isn't an impossible fix, Mark just needs to be less uptight. Blonzie a little bit more serious. They both have reasons to be sorry to each other. And some days it is hard, because that brotherly love will always be strong in their hearts. It just has to finally grow again, and blossom into a healthier and more understanding relationship. Their biggest issue as they grew up was that they couldn't understand each other. And Marks problem is that he doesn't want to understand Blonzie. Blonzie knows a lot more about Mark than he thinks he does, because he's observant despite being a bit rough with memory.

Blonzie will always be the "annoying" older brother, but it has to take Mark to be a bit more loose and willing to joke around too.

And that's. Yup. Yup 👍😊

[5and3nevermind]

Hey there 👋

Shall we remember the Yoonmin 'Titanic' pose from BV4?

When the show was airing and that moment came up, I honestly gasped out loud. It was just super unexpected.

Now, ofc, Bon Voyage, especially season 4, contains many adorable moments shared between the members (it's honestly my fav season of any travel show they've ever released). Still, this particular instance just seemed different to me.

Warning: I am obv biased bc I've always had a soft spot for their interaction but—

The thing about it is that it was super low-key. It wasn’t a 'Haha. We are on a boat. Let's do the Titanic pose' (which other members have done before ofc) or 'The camera is close so let's give ARMY some cute bromance content.'

They knew that they were being filmed by the drone, but since it was pretty far, I think that all 7 of them were able to be immersed in the moment regardless. Jimin particularly seemed like he was bc he appeared to be very focused on the view etc.

Idk. The way he told Yoongi to come. The way Yoongi went with it immediately even tho that's not really the type of stuff he regularly does with the other members. AND the two asking Hobi to take a picture of them (which he then hurried to do) just made me love that moment even more.

So, to get to the ask part, how do you see this moment?

P.S: I waited for Hobi to post that pic for years but part of growing up is realizing that it was meant for them only ig 😭

Hi, @miniminiz12 !

The thing about it is that it was super low-key. It wasn’t a 'Haha. We are on a boat. Let's do the Titanic pose' (which other members have done before ofc) or 'The camera is close so let's give ARMY some cute bromance content.'

That’s an excellent point! My feeling about this moment has always been that I love it, but I also recognize that they are not the first and only pair to do the Titanic pose. Other pairs I can think of off the top of my head are Jimin and Jk, Jimin and Jin, and Jin and Hobi. So, the pose on its own isn’t really noteworthy. However, the yoonmin example is the only one that didn’t take place on a boat or in the water, so it’s interesting that they thought to do it in that moment. I hadn’t thought of that difference until you mentioned it!

They knew that they were being filmed by the drone, but since it was pretty far, I think that all 7 of them were able to be immersed in the moment regardless. Jimin particularly seemed like he was bc he appeared to be very focused on the view etc.

I agree!

The way he told Yoongi to come. The way Yoongi went with it immediately even tho that's not really the type of stuff he regularly does with the other members. AND the two asking Hobi to take a picture of them (which he then hurried to do) just made me love that moment even more.

Ok, this is the part of the moment that I find particularly interesting! So, Jimin called Yoongi over and held out his arms. Not only did Yoongi go to him right away, but he understood what Jimin meant without any explanation. It’s just really cute! Not necessarily romantic, but certainly an example of the two of them being very in sync with each other. The picture-taking part is crazy too because it makes sense that Jimin would ask Hobi to take a pic since the whole thing was his idea, but Yoongi chiming in to ask for a pic is surprising.

And it was such a cute visual, the two of them in their coats looking all snuggly and wintery. 🥲

So, to get to the ask part, how do you see this moment?

https://x.com/90symn/status/1617915194830917632

It’s funny because I was about to write about how this moment is really sweet, but it isn’t really significant to me, but then I went back and watched it again, and…yeah it’s really something. I had forgotten about them expressing a strong preference for it not being taken in panoramic mode, just normal. Why? And again, if this is a Jimin thing, why is Yoongi so involved in the discussion of it? I had also forgotten Yoongi’s little “Titanic Titanic” at the end. 😔 Why is he so cute?! I demand answers!

Why didn’t Hobi ever share this pic? That is a mystery, but—as with the yoonmin collab—I’m never giving up hope! You never know: Hobi could drop this pic next October in his birthday post for Jimin. Wouldn’t that be exciting?

In terms of bv4 in general, it had some really high-quality yoonmin moments: Jimin telling Yoongi his voice is sexy, sharing a tent and all of the domesticity that went along with it, matching coats, Yoongi saying that Jimin looks so cute, etc, etc.

I hope the guys consider filming bon voyage 5 once they are home and rested from their military service!

[third-time-charmed]

Might I ask if you'd be willing to take some questions on your These Golden Regrets fic?

I've been wondering a little about when Aventurine turned off his synesthesia beacon because the incomplete Avgin dictionary made it hard to catch what Alicia was saying. Whether it was the trying to keep up with what was said, words that might sound similar to other words enough to confuse the system or if the grammar just got messy?

Feel free not to respond! I am simply curious!

You mean the fic with the plot that came to me wholesale as I was waking up one morning like a fever dream and has plagued me in the months since? I am ALWAYS happy to talk about any of my writing, but this one in particular!!

So I know I didn't talk a ton about the actual Synesthesia Beacon or Avgin language lore that I made up for this AU, so I will try to explain the situation in a little more detail. I should say that I am definitely not a linguist or anything, I wouldn't even call myself remotely an expert on any language including English. I've just always been fascinated by languages and how they differ and develop. (Tolkien's Sindarin was one of my earliest hyperfixations, if that gives you any context lol)

The first thing to keep in mind here is that it has been like 20 years since the massacre, so that's about how long it's been since Aven has actually had to communicate with anyone speaking Avgin. I hc that most of the Avgin clan would have learned a fair amount of Interastral Common in order to communicate with "the men in black" especially before they realized they were essentially being left out of the peace talks and the charter agreement. So that's where he gets his foundation from, and then when he was taken in, Jade made sure he learned what he needed to fill in most of the gaps.

But of course some things still slip through the cracks, or there were some words he just couldn't grasp, or maybe he just wanted to keep a few in his regular use. Besides that, the primary function of having the custom Avgin language module installed in his beacon is to cover his accent, he just also benefits from being able to translate any words he has to borrow from his native language by necessity. The reason the dictionary on his module is incomplete is because Jade insisted from the beginning that he use Interastral Common as much as possible rather than relying on the beacon as a crutch. This is also why he can use some simpler Avgin words without the beacon interfering.

Now to the incident in question. I imagine the Avgin language would have grammar and syntax that differs some from Interastral Common. Combine this with the fact that he's trying to parse and manually translate a language he hasn't heard spoken in nearly two decades, and the beacon keeps trying to throw in translations of random words here and there, maybe sometimes translating the wrong word because it thinks one word is something else since it doesn't have a full dictionary to compare to, which is all throwing his entire train of thought completely off track, and she's speaking VERY quickly because it's her native language which she speaks very regularly, but also mostly mumbling under her breath because she's not actually talking to them, and.... well, you can't really blame him at that point for just turning the damn thing off lol.

So in a way, I suppose the simple answer is, "Yes, it's all of those things you said in combination"? ^_^'

This is probably way more than you were asking for, sorry lol. But it was all information that I did consider and organize in my head as an explanation as I was developing the finer points of the plot, and there just hasn't been a natural way to introduce it to the exposition of the narrative. And those first couple chapters were already so long in the tooth, I even chopped the first chapter in half so that it wasn't entirely unmanageable. I can't imagine how ridiculously long and dry it would have been if I had tried to include all of this extra info in there lmao.

All of that to say, I'm actually really glad you asked!! Sorry this got so long, but like I said, I am always happy to talk at great length about this story! I actually keep going through this cycle of feeling really insecure about it, so the fact that so many people have expressed so much enthusiasm and excitement over it has been enormously gratifying.

[singofsolace]

Thoughts on "Alberta's Fan"

So I like to put shows on while I eat dinner by myself to make me feel less alone and it wasn't until I had watched this episode for the second time that I was able to focus on all of the new information we get about Hetty?

like, the first time around, I was focusing on the A-plot (A for Alberta, how fitting!) and so it wasn't until I watched it again tonight that some of Hetty's lines really sunk in.

For example, when Thor, Alberta, Sam, and Hetty are going for their morning walk, Sam makes a comment about how Hetty walks slower than the rest of them, which results in this exchange:

Hetty: "Well, excuse me for dying in heels! Plus, I did not sleep. You know I suffer from nerves. At least when I was alive I could take laudanum."

Sam: "What's laudanum?"

Hetty: "It's a simple mixture of alcohol and morphine. You should try it, Samantha."

Sam: "Oh sure, I'll pick some up next time I'm at the alchemist."

Hetty: "Well, I didn't always require such elixirs. When I was a little girl, an angel-voiced servant would sing me to sleep. Some footman or butler."

....

We get so much from this one exchange!

1) Hetty most likely died unexpectedly, since she was still wearing uncomfortable heels and a corset when it happened. I've been racking my brain trying to think of what could have killed her that didn't leave a visible wound but still caught her by surprise enough that she didn't so much as take off her shoes? I have to assume it was some kind of unexpected medical event, and not a long, drawn out illness, or else she would've been in far more comfortable sick-clothes; was it a stroke or an aneurysm, perhaps? I think I've seen others speculate that it could've been a drug overdose, which tracks, but wouldn't she have died high, like Flower, if that were the case? Wouldn't she be a little less lucid, and wouldn't Thor, Sas, or Isaac have mentioned it when other drug-related deaths came up? And would the writers really want drugs and alcohol to be involved in four out of the eight main ghost deaths? It's a mystery, to be sure!

2) Hetty has trouble sleeping, and apparently all the ghosts are already aware that she has anxiety which contributes to her insomnia, because she says "you know I suffer from nerves" as if to imply there's no need to offer an explanation as to why she didn't sleep.

3) When she was alive, Hetty regularly self-medicated with a combination of alcohol and morphine to help her sleep. We already knew about her cocaine use prior to this exchange, but I think this is the first mention of her using them specifically to "treat" her anxiety and insomnia.

Then, in a later scene, when Thor and Hetty are having their heart to heart, Thor tells her that he thought she would remember him after she died, but instead she had "terror of Thor." So not only did she not remember him or his voice, she was scared of him when she first died. And, in fact, she still flinches when he yells, despite having 130 years to get used to it.

Side note--when Elias comes out of the vault, he says that he's spent 130 years talking to his corpse. Hetty also says at one point that she's been friends with Isaac for 130 years. Does that mean Elias and Hetty died around the same time? We know Elias died first, but does that mean Hetty only outlived her husband by less than a year...? And since she says her children weren't fully grown yet when she died, does that mean her kids were taken in by someone else? Her sister, maybe...? So much to think about!

Hetty also says to Thor, "You were there for me when no one else was. Thank you." Does that mean that Hetty's parents were absent and/or neglectful? Was she treated poorly as a child? Did she not have much of a relationship with her sister, even before their looks were being compared to decide who would be forced to marry Elias...? Why was "Gordon" the only person Hetty remembers who supported her? That's just heartbreaking, especially when you think about how she went from a lonely, neglected child to an even lonelier, neglected wife.

Anyway, I have so many thoughts on this episode, I just wanted to get them out! Let me know if you all have any thoughts, too.

[demonlordclayman]

Chapter 19 Thoughts

Firstly, I was so delighted to see that Clayman confided in his friends. It does make some sense though - he needed people to understand why they were all asleep suddenly. Well, Eva at least. It does sound like he's keeping it a secret from the Five Fingers. I wonder how he explained that away? Well, I guess they just have to listen and accept things sometimes, in any case.

I was also wondering when Rain would show up and the answer is NOW! It makes sense to see that the Hero is so powerful that Rain easily recognizes that she's stronger than Rain is, but it still surprised me for some reason! But then again, Rain is pretty easy going (Clayman is going to have quite the Rain shaped headache soon). ALSO THE HERO BEING ABLE TO PUT EVERYONE TO SLEEP IN THE ENTIRE CASTLE IS...SO MUCH...

This is the most incredible Clayman expression I've ever seen in my life. I made it one of my accounts pfps because. Truly. Beautiful.

I was also happy to see Laplace, and happy that his appearing without warning is so normal that Clayman doesn't even question it and accepts it at face value. Unlike Rain, who he questions immediately.

Anyway, the explanations and discussion in this chapter were good, but I think the most exciting thing was that we're going to the Engrassia auction next chapter! I am very excited about this because it sounded like Clayman himself was planning to go.

I've been curious about whether Clayman goes into human civilization and if so how he does that (I mean, besides "he walks"), especially since we do see him in a human city in the flashback of his first meeting with Yuuki. He was just wandering around casually in his normal Demon Lord outfit...that being said, one explanation for that is that he was expecting to meet Yuuki, even if he didn't know what he looked like. It still strikes me as supremely odd though. And it didn't seem like he was expecting to meet someone...? or if he did, he didn't know much about them at all since the whole Kazalim thing was a surprise.

Anyway, I digress. My point is, it seems like it would be very unusual and also terrifying (from a human perspective) for Demon Lords to regularly venture into human society. So I guess I'm curious if Clayman will go as himself or if he'd disguise himself...but tbh I don't think he's the type to use a disguise, he's much too proud. So in that case, how are people going to react to him? I'm very curious about that. Humans seem to feel Demon Lords are Very Evil Always so like...I can't imagine anyone will be happy, though maybe unable to do much about it since they're afraid. I think that will be very interesting to see.

Furthermore, the prospect of getting excellent magic items is very exciting too!!! That could make a huge difference in the power of both Clayman and his subordinates. I'm trying to think offhand if there were any magic items Rimuru gained that Clayman could potentially get instead, but I think most of Rimuru's came from Kurobe, so I don't think that will be relevant...but even so, it's still got a lot of potential. And Clayman is loaded, though he may become destitute if he doesn't watch Rain- just kidding. Mostly.

So yes! I enjoyed this chapter but it's left me very very eager for the next one!

[averinthine]

i feel like i need to write out a full explanation of a particular problem that's been dominating pretty much every aspect of my life lately. i want to be able to refer people to it when i need them to understand my struggles - it's a bit much to explain from fresh every time. it might also be helpful as a point of comparison in the future if things change. my thoughts are under the cut for whoever would like to see them.

it's hard to say how long this has been going, but it definitely feels like a long-term trend, perhaps going back ten years or so in one form or another. i have an absolutely dreadful lack of self-awareness though, so it's something i hadn't really understood was happening beyond a general sense of Things Being Wrong until more recently. i think it's also been getting a lot worse lately.

basically, my whole life i've been extremely easily upset by many things, including things that it doesn't make any sense to be upset by. even uncomplicatedly positive things have always had a chance to bring me to tears, with my mind somehow contorting my emotions in a way that can make experiencing happiness an inexplicably saddening event. this goes back to before i even started school, and i don't really know where it came from.

with my physical health having been in steady decline for a while, along with other aspects of my mental health, and also just some random acts of circumstance, a lot of the things that used to be important and cherished parts of my life have fallen away, and i'm constantly yearning to bring them back. there's also a lot i've learned about myself lately, about things that have never been a part of my life before, but i now know i'd really like them to be.

the trouble is, these two issues combine in a vicious cycle, where i feel bad about not having certain things in my life, so i try to (re)engage with them, but then when i do, i get so overwhelmed with emotion that it's difficult to actually enjoy them. instead i end up just feeling terrible about how unaccustomed i am to having them in my life, and it hurts so much that i sometimes have to disengage. it makes me fearful to even try.

the only things that get spared from this are the things that i'm used to, that are so familiar that i don't really feel strongly about them in the first place. things that stuck with me as ways to occupy my mind during the times i was struggling the most, not out of them being profoundly comforting or important to me, but out them being just enough to distract me without making me Feel Too Much.

so i'm in this cycle where i spend a great deal of time just trying to avoid the agony of my overpowering emotions by hiding in my room doing things that aren't fulfilling to me. it sucks, i know it sucks, and i'd desperately like it to change, but it's just so incredibly difficult to make any such changes, because of how overwhelming it is.

as an example, i know i'd be a lot happier if i got back into making music, but it's a struggle, because doing so reminds me of the pain of having let that go in the first place. heck, i sometimes have a hard time just Listening to music if it was made by someone i strongly relate to as a person (particularly transfem musicians), because that's the sort of thing i should've been doing myself this whole time, and instead i've just got this big fucking void of a life.

it works basically the same for all the other hobbies and interests that i would like to have, or used to have. it applies to socialising in general, and particular forms thereof. it's basically the same reason as why there are a lot of people i used to talk to regularly, who i'd love to be that close with again, but i just can't bring myself to do anything to make that happen. there's also various social anxietes involved, of course, but i really don't think they would be too much of an impediment on their own.

so where do i go from here? obviously i need to Get Over It somehow. i'm profoundly unhappy with my life, and will be until i figure a way out. many parts of my life have gotten tangibly better recently, in terms of other problems having been resolved. but until i overcome this particular vicious cycle, the various sufferings that have been removed haven't had much of anything good to take their place. most of my remaining problems at this point stem from my own mind. the fact that i'm physically disabled scarcely matters when i wouldn't be doing anything with the abilities i lack anyway. i need to figure out how to fix this, and i worry how much of my life could slip away going unlived before i do.

[katkit-42]

Maybe I'm overthinking, but I've been having some thoughts about AFO's backstory. I'm gonna start with AFO's relationship to Yoichi but I promise we're gonna loop back around to Spearlike Bones.

A big theme in BNHA is that villains are humans before they are "bad". We see characters like Touya, Himiko, and Tomura, who embrace their villainy and "inherent evilness". And then we get to their back stories and we see their humanity, in both text and subtext. So even when AFO narrates this backstory of "I'm a super evil demon baby who was born irredeemable", I feel that Horikoshi has been trying to prep the audience to read humanity into it.

Admittedly, his story is different from the others for two main reasons: 1) all of the other villains have spelled out their human motives to the audience, whole AFO does not, and 2) all of the other villains are abuse victims, while AFO is an abuser. You can argue that he was abused by society, but so was everyone else--but they were also abused by their families, while AFO abused his family.

But going back to the backstory. Not to say that AFO has never done anything wrong, but I think AFO's backstory, as told by him, is a bit exaggerated. He claims to be a demon since birth but I think we can pick up some hints of humanity in AFO's backstory as well.

How he clothes Yoichi and brings him comics while he himself lives in garbage bags. How he protects Yoichi--he puts Yoichi at the top of a building that seems only accessible through flight. They're growing up in a genocide, and AFO was a child with no resources; putting Yoichi somewhere no one would find him would be the only thing he can do. It's just as much about keeping the armed soldiers and meta-killers out as it is about keeping Yoichi in. Only later, when they're both adults and AFO has started his criminal empire, do we see that AFO has the resources to make a vault. (And I can sorta get behind putting Yoichi in a tower, since, again, they are children with limited options, but the vault crosses the line).

Heck, AFO's love for Yoichi is itself a hint as his humanity. He claims he doesn't love anything that doesn't do anything for him, while excusing his love for Yoichi as "he sees Yoichi as the first thing he owned." Which, okay, but that still doesn't make sense. AFO grew up wearing garbage bags and the only "toys" he had were quirks. He wants to own things that are useful. But Yoichi is objectively not useful to AFO. Not as a sickly child, not as a rebellious adult, and not as a ghost in a quirk. AFO's explanation, to me, reads more as an "excuse". He feels love for Yoichi but he also has this idea in his head that he is the Evil Demon King. And Demon Kings do not care for other people. So he makes excuses--Yoichi is *his* property, Yoichi is his "first gift" (that's what the kanji in his name means), Yoichi is a trophy to hoard away. But that doesn't explain WHY he has this possessiveness in the first place. WHY does he see Yoichi as his property, as his "gift", as his trophy? I think that it's because Yoichi is his brother first. I think that AFO's love for his brother came FIRST, and *then* it was twisted into the abusive obsession. AFO loves (in his own twisted, awful way) the person he's related to by blood.

But there's another person who he has a blood relation to: his mother.

And now we go to Spearlike Bones. We see a lot of AFO's obsession with OFA because he doesn't have it. But he has Spearlike Bones. He doesn't need to obsess over his mother's quirk, because he already has it. However, I think we can see traces of his affection(? can't think of a better term for it) for that quirk and, subsequently, his mother. It's the first quirk he used, and probably the first vestige he saw. It's a quirk he used regularly, fused with other quirks for one of his signature moves. And at the very end of his life, when he's most desperate, he doesn't reach for any other quirk--no tentacles or muscle enhancers or defensive quirks. He reaches for his mother's quirk, which always protected him.

Anyway TLDR AFO has unhealthy attachments to his family that I don't think even he is aware of.

Hey you ever think about how, aside from his own, the very first and very last quirk AFO ever used:

Was Spearlike Bones; the quirk of his & Yoichi's mother?

Because this revelation has given me some weird feelings and I thought some of you might enjoy them too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On a less emotional note: between the above and being the first known quirk, this thing is quite steeped in significance, isn't it?

Ironic when it was introduced as just another in AFO's collection, first mentioned in the paragraph of his ultimate quirk combo in Kamino like it was nothing special. Wonder if he ever really knew what he had? Did he ever know this was the oldest known quirk? More importantly, did he ever know it was his mother's?

Knowing him, probably not.

[coneyislandbabey]

(put me out, put me out) put me out of misery. -> e.roundtree

WARNINGS: none!

SYNOPSIS: The push and pull between you and Eddie Roundtree was never-ending. No matter how hard you tried to push him away, you always came back together.  word count: 1,762

NOTES: This is part (5/8) of the beast of burden series! Part 4 can be found here. Sorry i've been MIA lately guys, been having a hard go of it but! Hopefully will be back to posting more regularly now.

Los Angeles, 1973 

If you sat back and analyzed the last few months, you could almost come to the conclusion that everything was normal. Back to the normal of before, even. Before being, of course, before yours and Eddie’s absolute blowout of a fight and all the far-flung mess that bubbled up and refused to simmer down in its wake, like a gangrenous wound. You had finally apologized to each other, promising to work hard at repairing your relationship, and you really did. The hurdle that seemed impossible to overcome months ago was long behind you, and your friendship with Eddie was strong and solid again. 

And yet. Things weren’t quite the same, were they? There was an ugly, obtuse stain on your relationship. No matter how good things continued to get, you couldn’t ignore it. It lingered, overwhelming and cloying if you ever stopped to think about it. You wanted nothing more than to leave it fully in the past, and that desire seemed to only bring it further into the present. Life was funny like that. 

Still, you were grateful to have him back in your life. Eddie had been your best friend for years, and the months where he wasn’t were the worst you’d ever experienced. You never wanted that again. If the whole mess had taught you anything, it’s that you never wanted to have to live without Eddie Roundtree in your life. If you had to endure some weird feelings to keep him around, then so be it. 

Practice was wrapping up for the day, and exhausted, you went to pack your bass up for the day. All you wanted to do was go back to your room, put on your pajamas, and have a cigarette while you read your current book in bed. And then sleep for like twelve hours before having to get up and go to the gig tomorrow evening. 

“Hey, (y/n), you and Eddie both said something about wanting to tweak the bass and rhythm guitar lines on a few songs, right?” Billy asked, coming to stand in front of you with his arms crossed. 

You stood from where your guitar case was resting and nodded. “Yeah, we did. Why?”

“You need to stay and do that tonight. It has to be done with that for the gig tomorrow,” Billy said, and stalked off without giving any explanation before you could answer. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, pressing your lips into a thin line. You wanted to take one of Warren’s drumsticks and throw it at the back of Billy’s head, but instead you bent down and unzipped your guitar case yet again, lifting your bass out of it. You lifted your head and met eyes with Eddie, who was wearing a matching pissed off expression to your own. You joined him over on the other side of the room as everyone else filed out to enjoy their evenings. 

“He makes me feel violent,” you commented lightly once the door was closed, and Eddie’s face brightened with his laughter. 

“You have no idea how relatable that sentence is.”

“I have a little idea,” you shrugged, recalling all the times you’d listened to Eddie (rightfully) rant about the way Billy treated him. “So, what do you wanna work on first?”

“You wanted me to listen to your base line for Have Love Will Travel, right? Let’s start with that,” Eddie suggested and you nodded, settling yourself down onto the floor for what would likely be a long night. Much longer than you were planning, at least. Eddie sat down next to you, his guitar on the floor on the other side of him, his full attention on you. 

If you were playing the new bass line for anyone else, you would have been nervous, but Eddie had listened to everything you wrote and suggested the last few months, and you listened to everything he came up with as well. Working as a team, always backing each other up, Billy was less likely to immediately shoot either of your ideas down. It had made the work dynamic a little easier for both of you, especially Eddie, who Billy was always harder on than anyone else. 

Situating your bass on your lap, you closed your eyes and began to play. You’d been tweaking the Have Love Will Travel bass line on your own for a few weeks– the song was missing a certain punch and you were sure you could bring it yourself. Finally, you felt confident that you’d gotten it right. You would know for sure, if Eddie agreed with you once he’d heard it. You sang along softly with the bass, losing yourself in the song, completely sure that it sounded better this way. 

When you finished playing you opened your eyes, glancing Eddie’s way to find his eyes were still on you. His gaze was soft, brown eyes bright like copper in the dim yellow lighting of the room. His smile was small– a real, genuine smile, not his usual smirk. You blinked at him, feeling something old and familiar squirm in your stomach. 

“What’d you think?” you asked, voice as soft as his gaze. 

“It’s a hundred times better than before,” he said, smile growing by degrees. “Really, the song has been missing something the whole time, and I think you found it.”

You bumped shoulders with him, looking down at the bass in your lap to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks at his praise. You had always trusted Eddie to be honest with you about whether something was working or not, which made his compliments mean that much more than if they were coming from anyone else. Really, anything Eddie said meant so much more just for coming out of his mouth. 

“Good,” you nodded. “You think it’s ready to play for the others?” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t need me to tell you that,” he nodded immediately. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “But I like to hear it from you.” You snapped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp of surprise at your own words. Ever since you and Eddie made up, you’d been so careful not to say things like, well, things you would have said to him before. How many years had it been since you realized you were in love with Eddie Roundtree? You didn’t know anymore, it felt like you always had been. But none of that changed the fact that what you had told him that fateful night in New York City was still true. You couldn’t put love before your career, before your art. You would do anything for Eddie, and that included bottling up any confusing or complex feelings you had towards him. Anytime they bubbled up to the surface, you stamped them down with an unbridled ferocity. 

I like to hear it from you. That could be friendly, couldn’t it? That could mean nothing more than ‘I trust your opinion and your ears, and when you think something is good, I know it’s good’. Maybe for anybody else besides you and Eddie, it could be taken at the surface level, but you both knew better. I like to hear it from you meant a million different things between the two of you. It meant I trust you more than anyone else and I crave your approval like an addict craves their next fix and every time I create something, the first person I want to share it with is you and really, I am always thinking of you. All of these, of course, are just different ways to say I love you. 

“What did you want to work on next?” you asked quickly, trying to brush over the moment. You fiddled with the strap of your bass, hanging limp in your lap. 

“(y/n),” Eddie said, his voice soft. You chanced a look over at him, and saw that his eyes had grown impossibly softer. There was something else there, too, something you’d caught in his gaze when he didn’t realize you noticed him looking at you. Something liquid and bittersweet floating just beneath the surface. 

“Eddie,” you answered. Measured. Hesitant. Every muscle in your body was tense, taut, ready for a fight. Any time things grew serious between the two of you, you got scared, scared that Eddie would decide your friendship actually wasn’t worth the heartache you’d caused each other, scared that you would get into another fight and he would be gone from your life for good. You’d rather a lifetime of dancing around your feelings than for that to happen. You met his eyes and he must have registered the fear in yours, because a small, encouraging smile graced his face, and he leaned over ever so slightly to bump his shoulder against yours. 

“I know a lot has changed,” he started, the words coming slow as he worked to make sure they were the right ones, “But I still– I’ll always feel the same about you. Doesn’t matter what’s going on between us, you’ve always been my favorite person. You know that?” 

A small, relieved laugh escaped you, and you could feel Eddie’s shoulders drop minutely in relief. “I know, Ed. Even when things were bad, I still knew, somehow. Maybe because I still loved you just as much, and somewhere inside, I knew you had to love me the same.”

“I did love you the same. Still do. Just, uh, you know. I just want you to know.” When you looked up at him, Eddie’s cheeks were dusted red, his gaze somewhere on the other side of the room. You would never be able to convey the relief his words brought you; after the fight, after everything that followed, you were sure Eddie couldn’t love you anymore. You hoped, in some selfish way, that he still could, even though you couldn’t give him what he wanted. You knew he would always care for you as a friend, but you’d thought anything else would have been squashed by everything that had transpired. You hadn’t realized just how much that idea crushed you until you realized it wasn’t true. 

“I know I can’t…” you trailed off, swallowing back the sudden wave of emotions welling up in you. “I know I can’t give you what you need, but for whatever it’s worth, I still do love you the same. I still do, and I always will.” 

“That’s worth everything,” Eddie said, his tone suggesting that you should know that, obviously. “How ‘bout we work on Susie Q?”

tag list: @eonnyx @celestialstar111 @whataloadofmalarkey @sapphiclm @spidermanenthusist @mannstarkey @luvrgirl555 @toyourloves @thefemininemystiquee @treblebeth @how2besalty @vyctorya @neptunes-curse @littlehoneyfreak @itsjustmikii @fallingwallsh

[takerfoxx]

So this youtuber called Terrible Writing Advice just did a video on literary deconstructions, and as someone who has talked a lot about the topic, I'm curious to see what you think.

I mean, he's totally right, especially in how people often mistake grimdark for deconstruction (Shrek is a deconstruction, y'all! You can, in fact, have fun and optimistic deconstructions!), but given a lot of my early writing, I can't help but feel a little called out.

And no, I wouldn't. It's a bedtime story. The fact that the protag starts of as just some guy with no desire to go on an adventure is a trope as old as time.

...

Actually, you know what? This is a good time to address something I've been seeing a lot of. So, here's goes.

Guys.

Yes, Puella Magi Madoka Magica is a deconstruction. No, not because it's dark and fucked up, but because it literally deconstructs the fundamental tropes associated with the Magical Girl Warrior genre. Yes, there have been dark Magical Girl shows before, but that's not the point. The point is how that darkness is used.

Look, the Magical Girl genre is primarily an escapist power fantasy for young girls, and there is nothing wrong with that at all. But what Madoka Magica did was not make it all grimdark with the blood and violence (of which there is a lot less than people remember), but by taking apart the components of that genre and injecting a dose of reality. Kids and teens being given magic powers with awesome outfits and neat mascot helpers to fight aliens and monsters sounds awesome AF, which is why the genre is so popular. Because it is awesome! But in reality, it would only end up with those same kids ending up horribly traumatized by what they do, see, and experience, resulting in massive mental health issues that compound over time. Furthermore, they would also regularly make very bad decisions in critical life or death situations (because they're, you know, kids) that result in destruction and loss of life, including their own.

Also, why is it always kids that these cute mascot helpers give these special powers to defend their cities? Because, again, it's a power fantasy. That's why it's so popular. But realistically, children would make for a terrible choice to be given those powers, for reasons already stated. Yes, there's usually an in-universe handwave explanation, but that's just to sidestep uncomfortable questions. In fact, the whole thing sounds pretty danged exploitative, doesn't it? Children are impressionable and quick to make rash decisions without considering the long-term affects of those decisions, so specially going to them for recruitment sounds kinda fucked up.

Well, as it turns out, it is exploitative. The whole system is rigged to harvest those same turbulent emotions. That's why kids are targeted. Those emotions and the trauma is the whole point. The cute mascot helpers and their Magical Girl system are the true "villains," and the horrible monsters that the girls made a contract to fight against are just other victims like themselves, in the final stages of their victimhood.

That is why Madoka Magica is a deconstruction.

Furthermore, when people say that Madoka Magical "destroyed" the Magical Girl genre, what is meant is that it so thoroughly took apart the base components of the genre that it was hard to play them straight going forward. It was a massive shock to the system, one whose ripple affects are still being felt to this day. And in its wake a slew of half-baked imitators rose up, cluttering up the genre trying to capitalize on its success by churning out a bunch of grimdark Magical Girl shows that don't seem to understand what made the original so special.

But that doesn't mean the genre is broke beyond repair, either. These sorts of trends happen all the time. Evangelion did the same thing to the Magical Girl genre's distaff counterpart, the Giant Mecha genre (albeit unintentionally), but Gurren Lagaan came later and put it back together. And for all I know (I don't really pay attention), one might have already.

So, yeah. Madoka Magica was very much a deconstruction, and it did change the genre, possibly not for the better in the short term, but the long term may prove differently, as future entries might take what was learned and use that knowledge to make even better feel good Magical Girl shows to give power fantasies for kids in the future.

[roominthecastle]

I am honestly so confused by the 'Harry is Goliath' reveal. More than the storyline, just that they figured it out. At no point has time travel been a thing. (Right? Did I miss a hint somewhere about it?) Shapeshifting on the other hand - most definitely a thing. So why, when confronted with things that no one else should know/have been present for, wasn't the first theory: 'Goliath came to Patience and spied on us, and we had no idea because he could've looked like literally anyone'.

But: somehow, Harry is Goliath and made messages for himself!

Like, how is that a logical leap to take? Why did Asta come up with that? On the list of possible explanations for the paintings, that was like... number 37.

I know they're seriously deviating from the comic and that's fine, but this is such a weird, convoluted thing to do. Putting aside the time loop issue and inevitability and how stupidly they've written themselves into a corner with this (if they prevent the destruction of earth, Harry won't be stuck for 300 years, won't evolve, won't come back as Goliath, won't warn himself, so the destruction will happen... and they're stuck in a spiral now.) it's just not necessary. We went from the idea that aliens exposed to humanity for long enough could change and learn to feel and care. But turns out, no. Just Harry. He's alone in this.

Again.

My head is def still spinning with this twist, anon, so bear with me as I try to feel my way to a semi-coherent answer. But thank you for this ask bc it gave me a great opportunity to try and wrap my brain around what the fresh hell is going on here :D

The short version is: I, too, am confused and can only hope they sort this mess in a satisfactory way.

The long, rambly version:

I don't think the possibility of time travel's been explicit but it's been implicitly present since day one - sort of like Chekhov's wormhole. Harry said his home is 46 light-years away, so it would have been pointless for him to radio his people to stay away for 50 years because even if they could travel at the speed of light, it would still take them about 50 years to arrive. Therefore, they must have figured out how to use wormholes and the necessary ingredient for this is the same that enables time travel (and is in Harry's alien balls, I suspect): exotic matter. Not at all sure how aware Asta is of all this but she has seen all the crazy stuff Harry can do + she’s been deep diving into all things alien on the internet, so the idea of time travel might have been floating around in her mind already.

That being said, my reaction was the same as yours when she instantly zeroed in on Goliath-is-time-traveling-Harry. It def feels like a result of a pacing/writing issue that's really starting to chafe this show, imo. They are crunching plot at the expense of everything else and I'm never a fan of that. And it's not the plot I don't like, it's the speed that warps everything around it, characters included. Plus I've also developed an aversion to "gamechanger" surprise twists but that's not this show's fault, it's just that I've rarely experienced one that doesn't knife an otherwise promising story in the heart, so I’m always reflexively concerned whenever it happens. Fingers crossed they have an actual plan beyond “shock and awe”.

Right now everything depends on where they choose to go with this twist. It's a mess but it can still be great and meaningful. Time travel stories are ripe with contradictions that regularly make my head hurt (I still love them, tho). The particular paradox you describe would def reduce this story to a hopeless, pointless fixed loop that goes against the governing massage of hope they've been cultivating.

One (maybe the only) solution I can think of atm is introducing the idea of parallel, intersecting timelines that connect via wormholes or "bridges". The fact that this ep also featured an actual bridge connecting past/present/future might not be accidental, either. In the ep Harry also mentions ley lines which are believed by some to be pockets of concentrated energy (like wormholes) that connect places. So maybe they are the spots where parallel worlds also brush up against each other.

In this scenario, future!Harry steps back into the past of an intersecting parallel timeline (ours) where he can effect meaningful change and safeguard Earth. This way this version of him would not be stuck in a doomed loop forever, "our" Harry can live out the rest of his days without having to become Goliath, and the paradox would be eliminated.

And this would take nothing away from our Harry’s development, either.

His 500-year old solitary wandering on a dead planet was not the source of Harry’s extraordinary growth, it was the result of it. He pinpoints the real source in the flash-forward at the beginning: Asta. She is also the reason he refuses to shed his dying human body bc that’s the body that has known her, that she knew (oh boy oh boy, the implications here are just so rich but I digress...). And when the time comes and he has no choice but to transform back into his alien form, that's when he begins his quest to find a way to set things right. Hope pushes him forward, hope that she gave him, hope that is his love in its most enduring form.

So this “many worlds” solution would make Goliath!Harry a parallel or alt version of our Harry, an identical copy if you will, who would not only serve as a portend & guide but would also demonstrate just how much growth our Harry (and his kind in general) is truly capable of. I mean, just because we haven't seen other aliens develop in a way Harry does, it doesn't mean it isn't possible for them. Quite the opposite, I believe.

So yeah, I have no idea what is going on anymore but am cautiously optimistic it’s gonna become one hell of a ride. We’ll see.

[multiplicity-positivity]

OK OK, I have a question but it's kind of complicated and I totally understand if you can't answer it because I think you really need a singlets perspective too, but I'll leave it here anyway!

So, sometimes I have some "thoughts", which can come in the form of sentences or other things, which are totally random and meaningless. I thought this was normal (aka common) and called it "intrusive thoughts" because technically it wasn't coming from me.

But, I've been seeing in the last few days some people explaining that intrusive thoughts are actually thoughts that don't agree with your moral values but still appear out of nowhere, which usually causes some level of discomfort. I realized that my ""intrusive thoughts"" didn't fit into this, because I didn't feel uncomfortable and it wasn't anything that contradicted any moral values of mine.

Then I saw some people explaining that what most call "intrusive thoughts" are actually impulsive thoughts, which are basically thoughts that make you want to do something. Again, it doesn't fit my experience because these thoughts are never driving me to do something, it's more like "what is this [specific media I like]?" appearing out of nowhere while I'm thinking and I'm almost immediately starting to explain to an imaginary listener about this media.

I was questioning myself being a system before, and this has made me more prone to questioning, but I wonder if it's something with ADHD hyperactivity or just a common thing, as it doesn't happen to me very often (or at least I don't repair) and I don't remember hearing a response that came from the same place these thoughts come from, so I don't know if it could actually mean I'm plural or it's just... Some quirk.

Well, my question is basically this: Is this a common experience, are there other more plausible explanations, or is it really an important sign that I can be plural and I shouldn't ignore it?

— Angelly

Hiya, Angelly! So having random, unhinged, or unexpected thoughts that seemingly come out of nowhere isn’t actually a sign of plurality in and of itself. I think it’s a common experience for people to be confronted with a thought they weren’t expecting! :3

Have you ever conjured an image in your mind that’s seemingly random? Like a chicken juggling oranges, or a line of tap dancing frogs, or a sentient, pie-throwing, microwave robot (okay that last one is an Adventure Time reference hehe)? Having unexplained, random thoughts is actually completely normal, and is something that even individual alters within our system experience occasionally!

Especially if you have ADHD or are prone to losing focus, it makes sense for you to experience random thoughts fairly regularly. Even in neurotypical singlets, the mind can wander, and thoughts can pop up spontaneously!!

I’m including a link to an article from Cognition Today about random thoughts, daydreams, and how they occur:

Does this sound more like something you’re going through?

We’d say that only you can ultimately determine whether or not you’re plural, or whether having random thoughts makes you plural. But we will say that having random thoughts that aren’t necessarily intrusive, just unexpected, is totally normal for singlets and individual alters alike!! If it is a quirk, it’s a quirk that comes from being human, or at least a sentient, thinking being!!>w<

💚 Ralsei and 🐢 Kip

[nafeary]

Napoleon, Theo, Dazai, and Jean reacting to College Student!MC Stressed by Deadlines

Requested by @hqissodelicate:

hey toni boo, sara/delicateikemenmemes here ❤ i've been Going Through It with school 😔 so i was thinking of how my boos napoleon, theo, dazai & jean would react to MC who's a (stressed, exhausted) student who got yeeted to the mansion in the midst of a bunch of deadlines? thank you boo & i hope you're drinking your water 💙😤

✧✎ A/N: I’m sorry it took me this long to finish... but this was super fun to write and it helped me get back into writing after such a long break due to school bs. I’m not too satisfied with Dazai’a and the haphazard scenario/headcanons mush, but I still quite like this I think. Thank you for the request dear! Take care and drink water, everyone!

Warnings: Stress and mild mentions of anxiety, and like one mention of sexual intercourse

Napoleon Bonaparte

“You’re just a chore, after all.”

You whirled around. “Don’t act like your job is going to be that hard,” you could only scoff in annoyance, “I’m going to be inside my room all day, anyway.”

At first, Napoleon was slightly confused by your statement. Wouldn’t you want to explore this new world at all? But according to code, he’d just smirk and go (sleep) do smth

And true to your statement, you did stay inside your room for the most part

It’s not like your quadrillion essays would write themselves

It’s not like your college would just excuse your tardiness

It’s not like—

“Nunuche, you sure you don’t need a break from... whatever you’re doing?”

Napoleon was quite suddenly standing besides you, trying to read the mess that you’ve created.

“And who gave you permission to enter?”

“Me, obviously. I did have the impression that you were in danger, judging from the amount of curses I perceived.”

You could have died from embarrassment. Of course he had to hear your yells of frustration, stemming from the fact that your laptop was out of order, that you had no idea how to use ink properly, and—

“Have you realised that you regularly zone out?”

“I suppose? But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to finish...” you trailed off, gesturing to the papers in front of you.

However, at his inquisitive gaze, you decided to explain that these were essays that could very well decide how you’d pass university, and, upon further inquiry, elaborated how a modern student’s life looked like

He never interrupted you unnecessarily, only to ask questions when a concept was too modern for him to comprehend

Your cursed assignments certainly made your life in the past harder to enjoy, but it also brought you and the emperor closer than ever

Unable to access the internet—or visit the college library—you had no proper sources for you references (considering that Comte’s library had no modern content, naturally)

You also didn’t want to bother Sebastian, especially since him and Comte had shown so much understanding for your peril that they practically forbid you from helping him out around the mansion

Their reasoning didn’t make you feel less bad though

Hence, you only had one option left that could complete your last essay

Which oh-so conveniently encompasses the Napoleonic Wars, something you truly did not want to burden him with

“Napoleon? Remember those essays that I have to finish for my university courses?”

“Of course.”

You were twiddling your thumbs, contemplating whether your grades are worth revisiting unpleasant memories, aka the taboo of the mansion

Abruptly, he grabbed your cheeks with just enough force to turn you away from looking at your feet, but not enough to inflict pain. “If there is anything I can help you with, I’d never shy away from it.”

Begrudgingly, you inquired him about his reign with as little focus on the gruesome details as possible your professor be damned

And holy shit, he’s amazing at writing? And Not just cringey love letters? Panty Sniffer Napoleon brrrrr

As you grew closer, he’s spoil you with vitamin-rich snacks (going as far as asking Arthur and Sebastian for medical advice)

He enjoys carving cute shapes out of fruits and eggs because he knows that their and his adorable presence will prompt the perfect amount of distraction to allow a small moment of rest

Says that it’s his duty as your guard and boyfriend to take care of your overworking habits

Expect frequent complaints from your beau, ranging from “how could they assign so many essays? Aren’t students just humans, too?” to “‘Reasons Why Edison Is Better Than Newton’? Do they even know what they’re talking about? Tch!”

Theodorus Van Gogh

You gleefully indulged in his charades for the first few days. They were a welcome distraction from your college work, after all

But the procrastination was accompanied by guilt, your anxiety building up every second you spent helping Sebastian with the chores, and gallivanting around town with Theo

A week passed before your sense of responsibility finally kicked in. So when Sebas came to wake you up just as the sun peaked past the horizon, you were already scribbling away on some sheets you’d found in your drawers

“Ah, good morning, Sebastian-san.”

“Good morning... what are you writing, if I may ask?”

“Just some essays for my college courses...” you said, glancing dejectedly at your notes.

Now that you didn’t have access to the internet, and your laptop’s battery was all used up, it made your work all the more tedious, but you had to set your teeth and do this.

“Give me 10 minutes, and I’ll join you in the kitchen.”

He had wanted to argue, but you didn’t let him. And when he saw you leaving the house with Theo later in the afternoon, he could only shake his head.

You felt like you owed the art dealer, especially since you blurted out his secret the literal next moment, so you committed to helping him while also keeping up with your work

Although, him calling you dog wasn’t nice either—even though, according to Sebas’ explanation, Hondje wasn’t exactly the equivalent to mutt

That cycle continued for days. Helping out around the mansion, getting pulled around by Theo, and writing your essays deep into the night

Not to mention all the worries that pressured your shoulders further and further into the ground

You were missing so many group project deadlines, disappointing people that relied on you... it was safe to say that sleep did not come easy, if barely

Just before you arrived at your room after a late night art exhibit did your body decide to fail you, tripping over nothing multiple times.

It prompted Theo to call you out before you could even think of rushing past the door, steadying you with a hand more gentle than you had ever experienced it to be.

“Sebas informed me that you’ve been working yourself to death.”

You silently cursed the butler. “I haven’t—“

“Give me your laptop.”

Perplexion ran across your mien, wondering how he could possibly have remembered such a modern detail from your countless rambles. “It’s batt— it doesn’t work right now, so it’s not like it would stop me from working.”

Arguing with the devil was a mistake.

He snaked his arms around you, holding the door handle in place with one hand while the other still kept you upright. “I don’t care whether you work or not, I’m not your mother. And regardless of its abilities, hand it over, knabbletje.”

What other choice did you have but to comply?

He ordered—yes, ordered—you to go to bed right that instant

If you hesistanly ask him to do the same (we all know what a hard worker he is), he’ll just press a guileless kiss to your forehand, telling you not to worry about him

The next morning, you were already worrying for your baby’s safety within the sadist’s hands when the devil invited himself into your room

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“Morning to you, too, Hondje.” He sent you an overly handsome smirk, handing you the laptop tucked underneath his arms. “You won’t be able to use that spider web Sebas told me about, but writing should work.”

You stared at Theo in disbelief, all the while internally laughing at him misinterpreting the World Wide Web. Deciding to trust in him, you clicked the power button. And sure enough, it sprang to life. “What... how in the world did you...”

Leo overheard you and Sebas talking about solar energy sometime… hush, just run with it

He fell into the seat next to you, propping his chin upon his fist. “I didn’t do anything. Just asked Sebas whether there was a way for you to use this. Leonardo took notice and tinkered around with it. Don’t ask—ah!”

You threw your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “Thank you for taking care of me, Theo.”

Would you have lifted your face, then you’d have caught a glimpse of the vermillion shading his cheeks. “I didn’t do it to help you. I simply can’t risk having you become a liability at work. That’s all.”

Anyway, tsundere tendencies aside, you know what another big factor of dating Theo is?

King if you’re not allergic, understandably, if so, he’ll change his clothes before even thinking of visiting you

On days that you decide to be especially stubborn, he pulls you outside, all the whilst whistling for the jolly golden retriever

And as soon as he comes running, your mind goes brrrrr cute dog

Although, he’ll try his best not to distract you from work. He knows from personal experience that it’s a much bigger annoyance than help

Thus, he’ll certainly use his connections and amiable rip Shakes relationships with the residents to help you out with the research process

Also, with his superior memory, he knows what generally makes you happy and relaxed, so he’ll be his usual observant self to decipher just what would help you perfectly relax/finish your work

Hardworking boi, please love him

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is the type of person that doesn’t mind upsetting people and risking someone’s disdain if it supports that person in the long run

And he’s able to read people like books, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he knows you’re overwhelmed before you even realize it

You’ve been going to sleep too late and waking up too early? He’ll gently force you (if you’re 100% against it, he won’t do it ofc) to sleep beside him, making sure that you won’t rise with the sun for once

You’ve been exposing your wrist to heavy sprain? He’ll teach you some handy-dandy 5 Min Crafts techniques that are guaranteed to send your hands on a vacation

You've been suffering from writer’s block? Time to go on a lovely stroll through nature with your boo

Your shoulders and neck are hurting beyond sanity? He swears by hot springs, so the thermae is his go-to for when you need to relive some muscle kinks

He never fails to procure the perfect amount of bubbles and temperature. And depending on how comfortable you are with it, he’ll offer to wash your hair.

And since dude got Disney princess hands, you most probably fall asleep, but our man is there to hold you above the water

His bare thighs are an added bonus, sending your mind into spirals faaaar away from college work

After you’re done bathing, he’ll ask you whether you’d like him to braid your hair (if it’s long enough), and his Disney princess hands will not disappoint

In the beginning, it was incredibly vexing to have a security cam in the form of a handsome man always on the qui vive

But at some point, you started embracing Dazai’s overwhelmingly passive—you knew exactly what he was doing whenever he’d do something random—protectiveness

Especially since it didn’t only help you complete your work; on the contrary, you were always excited to spend time with the Japanese writer

But that didn’t curb your confusion at the whole debacle. Why was he this focused on your well-being?

So, you decided to confront him

“Dazai?” Once again, you were relaxing in his arms, his fingers threading through your hair lulling you into a dreamlike state.

He ticked his head to the side, pulling your entwined hands closer towards his heart. The sun streamed into the run at just the right angle, yet the golden light was not as bright as his vivid citrine orbs.

You sighed, unable to look at his stupid handsome face for too long. ”Why is it that you insist on taking care of me?”

“Someone has to, Toshiko-san.”

You’d have blurted out your feelings if it wasn’t for the sudden embrace you found yourself in. As guileless as it appeared, you knew he was trying to stop you from acting on your thoughts.

Deciding that you didn’t want to pressure him further (after all, you knew that he had a hellish first life), you accepted the unclarity of his feelings—even though his actions spoke loud enough for you to understand.

It was that day that you decided to repay him for all he’s done for you

And you wouldn’t let him yeet himself through a window in an attempt to evade the love sent his way this time

Even if it took decades, you wanted him to feel just as safe and loved as you did in his company

You were glad to have such a caring man by your side who helps you with managing you self care

You could only hope that he’d allow himself to be treated the same way

Please just take our love, boo. We love you

Jean d’Arc

Well fuck, how could he possibly help someone who’s stressed when he himself is a 24/7 McDonalds that only sells Chicken McStress?

Anywho, I feel like he’d be the complete opposite of Dazai when confronted with a stressed MC

He’d care just as much, of course, but he thinks that it would be better to give her space, since he himself understands the desire for solitude well

So yeah, I can see him not going out of his way to check up on you if you weren’t super duper close friends/lovers IF it wasn’t for his friend Napoleon

After all, it was him who gave your boyfriend a lil talk, convincing him that, perhaps even if someone needs space, they probably still need someone to look after them

Living with Jean is basically Ted Talks everyday

Anyway, he embarked on his journey to hopefully help you and and to relieve some stress that was wearing you down (according to the statement of several residents)

And, finding himself halting abruptly, our pessimistic little bean realised that he’s got zero idea what did help you attain bliss

So he opted for the next best option—things he knew that made his friends relax

Plan A

Hearing a few oddly reluctant raps on your door, you went to open it. As soon as you did, the beautiful man who’d captured your heart entered your vision, your eyes finding his amethyst ones immediately.

You two stayed like that for a moments, only breaking eye contact when he sighed and simultaneously thrusted a mug into your hand, already in the process striding back to his own room.

“Uhm… Jean? I’m a bit busy right now, but would you like to come in?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t you find it inappropriate for a man to enter your room, mademoiselle?”

“Jean,” you giggled at his archaic mindset, gently rubbing your thumb between his brows to even out the crease. “We’ve had sex before, you know. Of course you ca—“

Wrong thing to say. He stormed past you, vermillion cheeks practically leaving a trail.

Chuckling to yourself, you turned to the mug’s contents. “Hm? Hot chocolate?”

Plan B:

“If this doesn’t harbor your discomfort…” Your boyfriend reluctantly stood in your room’s corner, standing straighter than a rod.

Frankly, your essays have kept you entirely too busy, and you longed for the warmth of the French man’s feather-like embrace.

“On the contrary, I enjoy your presence.” And you went right back to scribbling away.

Jean frowned. “Haven’t you been writing stories since this morning?”

“They’re not stories… and, yeah? I believe so.”

Stepping towards your seated form, he extended his hand; you grabbed it without thinking twice. “Is everything alrig—whoa!”

With the ease of a seasoned soldier, he picked you up before haphazardly tugging you into bed with bewilderment maring your features. “You should sleep.”

“—what?”

He stared at you blankly, as if expecting you to fall into the land of dreams right that instant.

“Did something prompt,” you slipped your arms out from underneath the duvets, gesturing wildly, “this?”

It was hard to be upset with Jean, his clueless but genuine persona the reason why you fell for him, yet you couldn’t disguise the irritation coursing through your veins—you had work to return to, after all.

“I think you need to rest, mademoiselle.”

Your blinking made him avert his eyes, explaining quietly, “I am uncertain what supports your release of tension, so I thought that perhaps sleeping could help since it certainly does show affect with Napoleon.”

“Ah, and you made me hot chocolate since that’s what calms Mozart.”

After internally simping for his soft and wholesome dumbass energy, you pulled him to bed beside you, claiming that it would help you relax (but only after telling him that it was okay for him to ask for your preferences)

And falling asleep to the heartbeat underneath his broad chest is definitely a 5-star-resort vacation

He’d eventually ask his relationship advisor Napoleon whether it is okay to have you help them out with his reading/writing lessons (you

You, alongside Napoleon, steadily agreed, despite knowing that it was a ploy to keep you away from overworking

Please also love this boy, thanks

Tag List of the most wonderful sweethearts (just message me if you’d like to be added <3): @juminly @kisara-16 @sweetlittlemouse @thesirenwashere @nad-zeta @delicateikemenmemes