#[ and memes are good for that sort of thing. ]

[writing-for-life]

First Impressions of Netflix Sandman Season 2

Okay, I need to get this off my chest. Some people might know I’m the resident comics geek in here, but I’m not a comics purist. I liked the changes they made to S1 because they all made narrative and emotional sense to me, and despite some softening around the edges, it all felt true to the story to me.

And that was one of the reasons why I went into Season 2 with such high hopes and so much excitement. And I did like S2 as a sort of standalone thing.

But I also have a lot of thoughts about it as an adaptation, and I don’t know what happened there. Well, I guess I do because I expected compressing it so much would lead to some fallout. And I would’ve been okay with that. But it’s the emotional core of the story that has changed, and in my mind not always in a good way (people are obviously free to disagree). But one thing after another. Slight spoilers under the cut…

The Disjointed Feeling

The pacing feels completely off. We’re jumping a lot between storylines without giving any of them space to breathe, especially in Season of Mists. And it felt a bit like checking boxes? As an example, Lucifer’s abdication was rushed through like it was just another plot point. The new Nada arc (I call it new because it has so little resemblance to the original one that I can’t call it anything else) also felt rushed. For me, it was really hard to feel invested in their story, but that’s not just because of the overall disjointed feel, and I’ll get to it later.

Brief Lives fared marginally better in terms of letting the story breathe, but I think that’s also down to its overall narrative structure in the comics, which obviously supports that. And while I loved that we got Wanda, it felt like fan-service but otherwise just… stale? Because we completely scrapped AGoY, and it honestly felt a bit like, “But we need to make sure we still shoehorn in the fan-favourite trans-character somehow.” Honestly, Wanda deserved so much better than being this type of checkbox, and at this rate, it felt like doing her a disservice. But again, people are free to disagree.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: I get they had to condense it and that their hands were tied in a way. But it felt like condensing while still trying to cram in too much? I think volume 1 would have benefitted from cutting certain stuff to give other, more important beats more breathing space so it doesn’t feel like getting whiplash half of the time.

They’re Making Dream… Sorta Nice?

This is the big one for me. They’re softening Morpheus into oblivion (no pun intended), and it’s killing what makes him such a compelling character. In the comics, Dream is actually terrifying and horrible very often and not one bit in touch with his feelings (and for a good reason). I know that everyone loves the sad wet cat meme of Morpheus in the rain, but that’s his theatrics and drama, which are only part of his emotional core. Morpheus hides/supresses his true emotions 95% of the time until he can’t anymore and they burst to the surface in the most maladjusted ways. He also doesn’t talk about them like he’s in friggin’ therapy. That’s all good and well for fanfic, I do it as well because it’s fun, but that’s not his emotional core. That’s us trying to fix him.

And Netflix!Dream in S2 felt like a massive fix-it fanfic to me. Maybe that’s why so many people don’t seem to care because Tumblr obviously laps up these tropes, don’t know. It’s also understandable that people who haven’t read the comics won’t even notice, and that’s also okay. Netflix!Morpheus is a very different character from comics!Morpheus, and that wouldn’t be a problem, but the narrative tension stops working if you still try to cram him into largely intact comics plot. In the show, he gets a million beats where he’s clearly meant to be sympathetic, where the camera lingers on his face so we can see how much he’s hurting™️, where he has conversations with Lucienne that feel like the clumsiest exposition ever to mAkE us UNderStaNd because we’re apparently stupid and can’t figure out stuff or emotional subtext for ourselves (that already annoyed me in S1 btw). But the whole point of Morpheus is that he doesn’t SHOW that hurt. He buries it under duty and pride and quiet rage until it all comes exploding out in the worst possible ways. Netflix!Dream has been cracked open right from the start, and I honestly hated a little how far they took that in S2, despite already getting hints at it in S1. None of this should have been truly visible before the end of act 2 (the end of Brief Lives—that’s where he cracks open), bar a few subtle hints (there are obviously a few bits in SoM that are largely inner monologue).

And even then: Can we talk about the wash bowl scene? Just no, sorry. I had expected that scene to rip me to shreds and turn me into a blubbering wreck because it still does in the comics. But I didn’t shed a single tear, and it left me strangely underwhelmed because I honestly felt… that’s not Morpheus? Apologies to everyone who loved Tom’s performance there, but I just really didn’t. And I wanted to 🥺 That’s no reflection on anyone’s acting, because the acting as such was great. It’s just a character that’s barely Morpheus anymore. He’s this:

I totally get how it could be argued that the emotional outburst is in tune with releasing grief, so if people prefer that, I can see and understand why. To me, the quiet grief away from everyone was always more powerful though. Because it’s enough. It’s someone who hasn’t allowed himself to connect to that truthful, deep part of himself while theatrics and drama are much more of a an openly acknowledged part of him. That’s why I find the chair scene so powerful (and I’m PISSED we didn’t get it)—because it’s quiet and truthful. The wild scrubbing and howling is much more Morpheus the drama queen for me, but I get that I’ll be alone with that, and I’m okay with it 🤣

Which brings me to: The way they handled his relationship with Orpheus was particularly off for me. Comics!Dream’s guilt over his son is like an infected wound that he never lets anyone see. Netflix!Dream practically wears it on his sleeve after a bit of to-ing and fro-ing. Netflix!Dream is also painted as far more noble than comics!Dream. It feels like they’re setting him up for the heroic sacrifice only, and to me, that honestly stinks a little because I’ll call it what it is: mischaracterisation. But since I also know that screenwriters aren’t that dense, I’ll call it what it really is: making him more palatable for the mainstream audience.

The Emotional Core

The thing that makes Sandman special is that it is about stories and grief and the volatility and instability of dreams and the terrible weight of existing for too long. It is about change and the fear of change and how sometimes the only way is to break everything you used to be. But Netflix!Dream in S2 already is all of what he’s supposed to become, at least in a roundabout way. That’s why the conflict feels forced, because everyone around him still treats him like comics!Dream. It lacks deeper emotional resonance. It’s all surface emotional manipulation and layers it on so thick that for me, it was bordering on corny in parts (I wasn’t too keen on the additions to the dialogue with Orpheus at the end).

Or Nada. Don’t get me started. The whole sending her to Hell for 10,000 years barely makes sense anymore, because it was presented as a genuine choice. He was just “a bit pissy” she didn’t choose him and then didn’t rescue her, but she made the choice herself and basically suggested it first. Of course Hell in the Sandman is a place we send ourselves, and it was also implied in the comics that she could have walked away at any point had she just forgiven herself for the fate of her people. But it was Morpheus who planted the seed for that in the first place. In the show, they basically made it Nada’s choice from the outset.

Also: That he basically proposed and said he won’t bother her any further if she said no? Yeah, about that one. He’s so nice, isn’t he? Not at all the guy who could never take no for an answer, and hunted her down like a crazed stalker when she was both alive and dead.

It was just really weird revisionism of a story that originally had misogynistic and coercive undertones. I get why they removed them, but the problem is that they now fail to connect coherently with the story beats they kept intact.

In SoM, Lucifer’s character work was stunning (Gwen was great with what she was given), but it existed in isolation—it didn’t really connect to the broader themes about power and responsibility and the cost of ruling. It was all a hand wave.

I know that all sounds like I absolutely hated it, which I really didn’t. On its own, it’s okay. But I feel it’s just okay so far, while I thought S1 was great. S2 had many moments that absolutely did connect (I’ll just say Calliope and Johanna—they both made me sniffle), but moments don’t make a season. I’m a tad worried that the show has lost sight of what made the source material so special, in favour of making it more accessible to mainstream audiences (well, it’s Netflix, of course they would, but S1 was so much better). Sandman isn’t supposed to be “accessible”. It’s supposed to be challenging and weird and uncomfortable, and that’s what ultimately makes it beautiful.

I’ll keep watching, of course. I’m too invested not to, and maybe things will grow on me when I rewatch. But right now it feels like they’re adapting the plot of Sandman without understanding why that plot matters.

Maybe I’m being too harsh. Maybe I need to let the season breathe and see how it all comes together. But right now, it feels like they’re giving us a beautiful, well-acted shadow of something that is so much more.

Did anyone else feel like something was missing?

[azriona]

Captain America's Birthday Cookies (a NATFK ficlet)

Summary:

Never, ever attempt to troll Steve Rogers. Especially when it involves cookies.

Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve's Birthday, General Audiences. Technically part of the NAFTK 'verse but can be read independently.

Based on this tumblr post.

This fic fulfills two separate Steve Rogers birthday challenges.

The Build-a-Steve Party Bingo from @avengers-assemble-bingo: it fills Reader / Baked Goods / Costumes / I understood that reference (sort of) / Going Out. I used different music, though. 😉

Steve's Birthday Calendar from @stevesbirthdaycalendar: July 3 is Steve and Food; there are so. many. cookies in here. I've also linked to recipes so you can make them yourselves!

Enjoy the fic, and Happy Steve's Birthday! 🎆🎉🎊🎈

Please navigate to my MCU masterlist for other stories & AO3 links.

You set the plate of cookies on the coffee table in front of Steve after dinner, along with a glass half full of milk, and a cheerful, “Here you go, the yearly offering.”

Steve looks up from his sketchpad and frowns at the cookies. “The yearly what now?”

You smack Clint’s hand as he reaches for a cookie. “Stop that, they’re Captain America cookies.”

“Captain America cookies?” says Natasha flatly, looking up from her book.

You stare at the rest of them. “Seriously? No one in PR has told you guys about this yet?”

“Nooo,” says Steve slowly, still focused on the cookies. “But now I’m afraid to ask.”

You sigh. “Fine. There’s been this meme for the last, I don’t know, five years or so. On July 4th Eve, good patriotic little boys and girls leave out cookies and milk for Captain America, who will come by their houses after they go to sleep and leave behind truth, liberty, justice, and the American way.”

You motion to the cookies and milk in front of Steve, as if the rest is self-explanatory.

Bucky, somewhere on the couches, begins to snort with amusement.

“July 4th Eve,” says Steve, skeptical.

“Look, I did not make this up,” you say.

“She didn’t,” says Natasha, scrolling on her phone. “It’s a thing.”

“No shit,” says Sam, delighted. “Hand that over, lemme see.”

“Kiddo,” says Tony, possibly even more delighted, which also passes for devious. “Please, please tell me you did this growing up.”

You’re about to say no…

But then you see the stricken look on Steve’s face.

And the way Bucky is still snickering behind him.

And Clint already pulling out his phone.

“Every year,” you say, as wistful and pitiful as you can manage. “Sugar cookies. Chocolate chip cookies. Oreo cookies. The most American cookies I could find, except that one year I was totally obsessed with biscotti. I guess they’re not American enough, though, because you never came.”

Steve’s eyes narrow, as if he senses that Someone is Mocking Patriotism. Well, you’ve got two choices now: either pull it back, or… lay it on thicker.

Bucky’s laid out on the couch, biting a pillow to keep from laughing. Sam’s texting hard on his phone, grinning like mad. And Clint? He’s filming this on his phone.

Really, it’s not like you have a choice here.

“I’m just thinking of all those little boys and girls out there, trying so hard to be the best possible patriotic Americans that they can be,” you say earnestly, folding your hands together, like you’re pleading. “Think of the children, Steve. Third, second, first generation Americans, who have grown up knowing that Captain America believes in them and wants them to know about justice and liberty. All their truths super self-evident. So many little American babies, hoping and wishing that they’ll get a visit from Captain America, who will give them the confidence to know… okay, yeah, I can’t do this,” you admit, giving up as laughter overtakes you.

Steve shakes his head slowly. “You almost got me.”

“Oh, seriously?” you groan.

“Another minute, I might have caved,” says Steve, reaching for a cookie.

But when you reach for one, too, he pulls the plate away. “Nope. My cookies. You’re not Captain America.”

“Spoilsport,” you sigh, and go to get the rest of the cookies from the kitchen.

*

You are deep asleep in your bed, so deep you’re not even dreaming. When:

“WHO’S STRONG AND BRAVE, HERE TO SAVE THE AMERICAN WAY?” blasts the music at top volume.

You sit straight up in bed and scream, flailing your arms before someone switches on the overhead lights, and then you stare, mouth open in shock.

Steve’s wearing his Captain America uniform, and before you can say a word, he throws a cloth bundle at you.

“Get a move on, solider,” he says briskly.

“Oh my God,” you groan. “Did I miss an alert, I am so sorry—”

“Not that,” says Cap, motioning to the bundle in your lap.

Which has unraveled, and now you can see that it’s an actual costume. Red and white and blue with sequins, like some old-fashioned showgirl costume.

Like…

“CARRY THE FLAG SHORE TO SHORE FOR AMERICA!” sings the recording.

Your mouth drops open. “Are you serious? Steve, did you break into the Smithsonian to steal another costume again?”

“Tony had it,” says Steve, without further explanation, and oh man, are you glad he does not elaborate.

“Um,” you say.

“We have forty-five minutes to get to Delacroix,” continues Steve. “And you are officially my fourth of July elf.”

“Elf.”

“Well, I could call you my chorus girl, but…”

You stare at him, still half asleep, not entirely sure you’re not dreaming.

“Tony also told me to tell you, and I quote—” Steve looks like he’s going to enjoy this next thing: “Put on the suit.”

You blink. “I do not understand that reference.”

Steve just grins back at you, like he is enjoying himself thoroughly.

“Shake a leg, chorus girl,” says Steve. “I’ve got a date with some cookies.”

*

The Quinjet makes it to Delacroix in 35 minutes flat. Nick Fury is going to have words for the pair of you, because you’re technically not supposed to go into super-sonic when it’s not for a mission, but whatever, it’s fun.

The chorus girl outfit is decidedly not fun. You feel like an idiot, but Steve just grins and gives you a thumbs up, and doesn’t even try objectifying you like you know Clint would (in a jokey, wolf-whistle sort of way). Natasha would smile and offer a compliment, and Bucky…

Well. He’d probably stop talking for a few minutes and then go back to pretending that he doesn’t see you as anything but a field partner.

Anyway, the trip is good, Steve gives you a little more training on flying the Quinjet, which is probably the cover for using the super-sonic, and he lands the jet outside Sarah Wilson’s house just before midnight. (After all, it’s not just you who needs practice time in the jet, which only bounces a few times and doesn’t even knock over any trees.)

“Carry these,” Steve tells you, handing you two small gift bags, one red and one blue, both overflowing with patriotic paraphernalia: toys, glow sticks, coloring books, and the like. You roll your eyes and carry them.

“How are we getting in?” you ask as Steve heads for the house. “Like, shouldn’t we go in through the fireplace or something? Or is that too close to breaking and entering? ‘Cause that would be super un-American of you.”

Steve pulls a key out from one of his utility belt pockets. You snort.

“Did you steal that from Sam?”

“No,” says Steve, and unlocks the front door. “He gave it to me.”

“Wait,” you say, realizing, “is the rest of the team in on this?”

Steve grins at you. “Who do you think suggested you should be my elf?”

He goes into the house, but you stay on the porch for a moment, letting it sink in.

“Those shits,” you breathe, and follow him.

It’s quiet, but you and Steve are good at quiet. There’s a plate of peanut butter cookies on the kitchen table, along with a glass of milk and a hand-drawn note in crayon. FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE CASS AND AJ WILSON. You grin and reach for a cookie—

“Nope,” says Steve firmly, pushing your hand away. “You’re not Captain America.”

Your mouth drops open. “I’m an elf, I should get cookies.”

“You’re leaving the rewards,” says Steve through a mouth full of cookie, and you scowl while you set the bags down next to the plate.

Steve munches on the cookies all the way back to the Quinjet, and finishes them somewhere over Missouri. You don’t get a bite, but you do get a solid fifteen minutes on the controls, so maybe it evens out.

You don’t even like peanut butter cookies. Whatever. Stupid Captain America.

You arrive at the farm outside Waverly, Iowa, shortly after midnight. There’s lights on in the farmhouse, though they switch off as Steve lands the jet.

This time, he clips a tree.

It’s quiet when you both slip into the house – Clint having given Steve his key, too – but a nightlight glows from the stairwell, which is probably where the giggles are coming from. Steve grins at you, finger on his lips, and you nod, trying not to laugh.

The way Steve’s voice booms is so on brand, you almost can’t hold back the laughter at all.

“Well, my patriotic little elf, I think we’ve just found the most American children in the state!”

The giggles get even louder, and are accompanied by fervent shhhhhhing.

“I think you’re right, Captain America, sir!” you say, raising your voice a little bit. “And those cookies look delicious!”

“They really do, Elf, they really do,” agrees Steve, scooping up a handful of the thumbprint cookies. “Raspberry and blueberry thumbprints with white-chocolate stripes are my favorite.”

You reach for one – but Steve shakes his head and pulls them away. “All right, Elf, time to recite the Patriotic Promise—”

“The what?” you mouth at him.

“I, Captain America, defender of FREEDOM and LIBERTY hold this truth to be self-evident, that this house is home to the best Americans in the entire state of Iowa!” says Steve.

Cooper and Lila aren’t even bothering to contain their laughter now. One of them is probably kicking the wall, judging from the knocking sounds.

“We the people in order to form a more perfect union establish that this household should always contain justice, tranquility, and…”

Steve loses the thread for a moment. Or maybe is overcome by patriotic fervor, you’re really not sure which.

“And continual success in the pursuit of happiness?” you suggest.

“And continual success in the pursuit of happiness!” yells Steve, giving you a thumbs up.

The laughter is joyful, the shushing is half-hearted, and Steve glows at you. You leave two more giftbags full of patriotic silliness, and take a picture with your phone to send to Clint.

This is the best night ever.

Right up until Steve takes every damn cookie and doesn’t let you have a single one.

“Captain America cookies,” he tells you, and he’s practically walking on air back to the Quinjet.

You are gonna kill him.

*

“You know it’s my birthday today,” says Steve, halfway between Waverly and San Francisco.

The Quinjet’s on autopilot, and you’re both stretched out in the back of the jet, because it’s the middle of the night and in a perfect world, you’d both be sleeping.

But no, you had to go and troll Steve Rogers, because you forgot that Steve Rogers invented trolling, and now you’re 30,000 feet above Wyoming on your way to San Francisco to deliver a gift bag of silly patriotic toys, and you’re not even going to get cookies in exchange.

If Tumblr wasn’t already a trash fire (and proud of it), you’d turn it into one.

“Oh my gosh, Steve,” you say, deadpan. “You’re kidding. I had no idea that you were born of the Fourth of July. That was absolutely never in any history textbook I ever had, ever.”

Steve throws a wadded-up piece of paper at you; you pick it up and throw it back. “Most people thought it was a publicity stunt.”

“No way. It’s so corny, it had to be real, you know?”

It’s quiet for a while, except for the sound of Steve throwing the paper ball up in the air and catching it again. You close your eyes and think about falling asleep, sure that Steve will wake you up when you land.

“Sometimes I hate being Captain America.”

For a moment, you think you’ve dreamed Steve speaking. You turn your head to look at him, and he’s still throwing the paper ball up in the air, catching it when it falls back down. He’s taken off the cowl and the shield is stowed in its locker; his belt is on the table behind you and he’s undone some of the fastenings over his chest, so the suit is a little looser around his torso.

“Symbol of America, so patriotic he was born on the fourth of July,” continues Steve, with that deep voice he uses when he’s making fun of something official. He scoffs. “Even the Howlies didn’t believe it, until Bucky told ‘em it was true.”

You shrink a little bit into yourself; it’s not like you were much better, with your so corny, it had to be real. “Steve, I—”

“It’s fine,” says Steve quickly, but he doesn’t look at you, and he throws the paper ball a little higher, as if he’s throwing out the bitterness and aggression at the same time. “I’m used to it. And it’s not like I make a big deal of it anymore. Hard to celebrate being a hundred when I don’t look or feel it, you know? Anyway, Clint really would try to put a hundred candles on the cake, and Dum-E would drown all of us before I had a chance to blow them out.”

You chuckle.

“There was a kid we knew in school – Jacob Feinstein. Born on the 25th of December, and he’d get so angry with people who said he was born on Christmas Day, because he was Jewish, right? Wasn’t Christmas to him, it was just his birthday. But to everyone else…” Steve shrugs. “I’m not any more patriotic than the next person because of the day I was born, no more than Jacob was less Jewish. I’m a scrappy little punk from Brooklyn who’s more socialist than patriot.”

Steve throws the paper ball again. “That was the hardest part of the USO tour. The adults all expected me to be this… patriotic figure-head, you know? Every one of ‘em would come up to talk to me, expecting me to spout whatever bullshit they believed, because they’re all good Americans, right? I gotta think the same way they do. And sometimes I did, but the type of person who goes to those shows wasn’t usually the type of person I agreed with.

“The kids, though. They didn’t care about the politics. They just wanted to know if I was really holding up all those girls and how heavy was the shield and if they could hold it too. This one kid – Idaho, I think – I hand it to him. Not this one, it was the prop one. Barely weighed a thing. His eyes get real big, and he says, I thought it was heavier. You hold it like it’s heavier. And I said, ‘It is.’ And after that, it was a lot easier. Because they knew I wasn’t Captain America, I was just Steve Rogers from Brooklyn playing a character they knew from the comics they were already reading. And I talked to them like that, like I was Steve Rogers from Brooklyn playing a character named Captain America, and you know, it didn’t change, when I woke up after the ice.”

You smile, thinking of the times you’ve seen Steve with kids, because it’s true; the kids all want to hold the shield, are surprised when he can lift them up above his head. He talks to them like he’s a friend who happens to be a bit bigger, like the shield’s just a prop, like his uniform’s just a costume. The adults, they all want to know his opinion as if he’s the last word on all things American.

“You ever see those PSAs I did for the schools?”

The change of focus catches you off-guard. “Online, sure; they were after my time.”

“Same thing all over again. It’s Steve Rogers playing a character everyone thinks they know. Pretty sure that’s why all the kids make fun of them. I can’t even blame them, I’d do the same thing.

“But those kids we meet in the Make-A-Wishes. And the ones wearing the shield on their shirts, and hanging around to watch us take off in the Quinjet. Those kids. They know it’s just a costume. They know I’m Steve Rogers first, even if everyone else forgets.”

“I’m sorry I forgot.”

He twists to look at you. “You didn’t, though. Those kids know I’m playing a character, but they never make me feel like I don’t deserve to be. Sometimes I’m not sure I should be carrying the shield. But those kids make me really want to try.”

You smile at him. “I like that.”

He smiles back. “My mom was a nurse. First responder, they’d say now. But I just knew, when I was a kid, that I hated her going to work and leaving me alone when I wasn’t feeling well. Or if I just wanted her around, because I missed her. But she went to the hospital, every day, because that was her job. And I was proud of her, I knew it was a good thing, what she did. But sometimes, I wished she’d care about me more than she cared about strangers. Even though I knew she loved me more than anyone else on the planet. The Wilson and Barton kids, and Cassie Lang… maybe they feel different, maybe not. Except their dads and uncle are usually in a lot more danger a lot more often than my mother ever was.”

You think, but don’t say: Sarah Rogers’ job still killed her in the end.

“So if I can do this one thing for them,” continues Steve. “Something to make them laugh, to give them a really good memory… use Captain America to let ‘em know I see them and not just that they’re a hero’s kid… well. That can’t be a bad thing.”

You smile up at the top of the jet, letting that sink in.

Except.

“You’re wrong about one thing, though.”

Steve twists on his cot to look at you. “Oh? What’s that?”

“It’s not your hundredth birthday. You’re only ninety-ni—owwww!”

You yelp as Steve casually reaches over and knocks the latch holding up the cot, and you tumble to the floor, both of you laughing as you throw bits of wadded-up paper at each other’s heads.

It’s about twenty minutes later when Steve lands the Quinjet in the street next to Scott Lang’s house in San Francisco. It’s a quiet, pretty little street, and instead of a key under the front mat, you find a lock-breaking kit with your name on it.

“Great, you can earn your keep, Elf,” says Steve lightly, and you stick your tongue out at him and open the unlocked door.

“That seems very unsafe,” says Steve dryly.

“Yeah, but really funny if I’d locked it for him first,” you say smugly, dropping the kit on the table inside the door. “Anyway, only an idiot would break into an Avenger’s house in the middle of the night.”

“What’s that make us?” asks Steve, with a grin.

It’s dark in the house, and you think Cassie’s probably already asleep, a suspicion borne out when you find the note on the kitchen table.

Sorry guys, tried to stay awake but she conked out at 10.30. She decorated everything herself. Do me a favor, take a selfie and send it to me so I can prove it wasn’t me eating them? See you next week.

Scott

The cookies are amazing. They’re sugar cookie men and women, each one decorated to resemble a different Avenger. There’s even a cookie Nick Fury, and a cookie Pepper, and a cookie Maria Hill.

Steve picks up the Captain America cookie, laughing, and you take a picture quickly. Not a selfie, but it’ll work.

“We gotta take these back with us,” says Steve, munching on one of his legs, like a heathen who doesn’t realize the heads should be eaten first.

“I’ll go find some plastic wrap or something,” you say, and rummage in the drawers until you find a piece of foil.

“Hey, wait,” says Steve before you can cover the plate. He reaches over and snatches Cookie!You.

“Seriously, Steve?” you groan – but then he hands you the cookie.

“Go on,” he says, through the rest of Cookie!Him. “They’re really good.”

You break into a grin. “Really?”

“Well,” says Steve, “you earned it, cookie elf.”

You grin and look happily at your cookie. It’s too heavy on the icing in some places and the squiggles are lopsided and you don’t actually have orange on your costume but you don’t even care. Cassie Lang made you a cookie. Life is amazing.

“Also eating you would just be weird,” continues Steve.

“Yeah,” you agree cheerfully, dropping the gift bag for Cassie on the table and following Steve back out the door, making sure the knob locks automatically behind you. “Cassie Lang is my favorite.”

You as a cookie! You are gonna protect that girl through thick and thin.

The Quinjet takes off and Steve sets the course for home. You have lost all track of time, but there’s a cot back there with your name on it, and you can sleep in. You are the Cookie Elf, you have earned a late morning. And also a cookie.

It’s a gorgeous night, so many stars above the summertime clouds. You’re exhausted and you want to eat your cookie and you also don’t because it’s you. And Steve’s right, it would be weird.

Can you keep a cookie forever? You’ll have to look it up.

“Gonna be perfect for fireworks tomorrow,” says Steve, coming back to lay on the cot across from yours. He sounds so perfectly satisfied and full of cookies. “Well. Later today, I guess is more accurate.”

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy birthday.”

Steve folds his hands on his stomach and smiles. “The best,” he agrees.

<< Prev Story ||| NAFTK Masterlist ||| Next Story >>

[destielmemenews]

"More than 800 records of service members who were kicked out of the military under the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy were recently upgraded to receive honorable discharges, Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin said Tuesday.

“Just over a year ago, I announced that the Department would, for the first time, begin to proactively review the military records of former Service members discharged during ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ because of their sexual orientation who might have been eligible for upgrades to the characterization of their discharge or changes to their reason for separation but had not yet applied,” Austin said. “After a year of exceptional work, the Military Department Review Boards directed relief in 96.8% of the 851 cases that they proactively reviewed.”"

source 1

source 2

source 3

[adhdandcomics]

do you even KNOW how hard it is to find cool wizards on google that aren’t ai these days. we are so fucked

[fishareglorious]

now that 2.4's done, time to move onto 2.6. i'm gonna be honest, i do kinda dread watching it at the fear of not truly understanding the story and the themes because i have not a single lick of knowledge about latin american literature and all the other things that entail 2.6 and whatever aleph's got going on with the prison

[loz-chainsofcorruption]

Fun fact: my first contributions to the LoZ fandom were making crappy edits and doodles based on the random information my sister would dump in my direction. "Link basically plays tennis with the boss", "this guy's name is Ravio. And that one is Revali.", "here's what Ganon looks like in the new game", etc. She would talk about the different Links interacting and while I had no idea what she was talking about, I liked the idea, so I drew stuff. The Killer Bees one did happen after I'd officially gotten sucked into the fandom though, as I'd started playing Wind Waker by then and that edit reflected how I felt dealing with that boy.

[moxie-girl]

crossposting some more of the DRDT shitposts I've made over the last couple weeks here!

putting the rest under the cut bc there's a bunch...

(please go watch the voice actor streams and support them they're all awesome!! (also that's what the context for the first video is lol))

[carry-the-sky]

.

[mentallyillmindmeld]

*said while gripping sink and staring into mirror* but I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving I stay evolving

[datastate]

i keep finding reminders of how i used to act/type a few years ago and i shrivel up. and die.

[izzy-b-hands]

Said I was gonna spend today relaxing before work tonight

[the-first-spinjitzu-master]

3am doodles of some goofy little train faces :)

[clumsypuppy]

save me old flipnote studio MVs.......

[anthromimicry]

... do i dare say this is misao whenever she tries to get herself amped up for actually opening up to people JSJSJ

[wardensantoineandevka]

I know some folks who went to the live show and can't be with us as we all watch it for the first time on broadcast due to the time zones, but I will say, blindly, that I do plan to be obnoxious about what happens in this for weeks, and I'm pretty sure that I'll keep coming up with dumb jokes and comments about this for a WHILE. (Oh, and serious thoughts too, I guess. It's the Nein, I always have thoughts about them.)

So, never fear, we can still all make stupid jokes about this together AND you have an extra like 36 hours advantage to percolate on it!

[dragestil]

wasteland, baby / i’m in love, i’m in love with you

📍 river dodder, dublin, ie

🎵 “wasteland, baby!” by hozier