why have we as a collective ACCEPTED and NORMALIZED THAT TINY ASS FONT ON TUMBLR!!!!!
NO I WILL NOOOOTTTT BE READING YOUR FANFIC IM SO SORRY I WANT TO BUT IT HURTS MY EYES TERRRIBBBLLYYY SOOOOO
YOU ARE RESTRICTING YOUR COMMUNITY BY POSTING WITH THAT TINY ASS FONT!!! FUCK THE AESTHETIC AND JUST POST LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!!!! DONT TELL ME YOU CAN READ THAT CAUSE YOU CANT WITHOUT BURNING ANOTHER CANCEROUS HOLE IN YOUR CORNEA!!!!
the burning question on everyone’s mind, is john munch the jealous type?
“You a jealous person, Fin?”
His partner scrunched his nose at the question but didn’t immediately shoot it down. He looked around in thought before shrugging his shoulders.
“Can be. I don’t like people touchin’ what’s mine, y’know?”
Unsatisfied with the answer he’s heard a thousand times before, he merely nodded. Fin narrowed his eyes at the unusually silent man. If John was quiet, it meant his head was loud.
“Why you askin’? Some dog pissing on your lawn?”
Unceremoniously, John drops his pen and his head into his hands. “It’s too early for you to be invading my mind with repugnant imagery. Keep your filth to yourself.”
With a snort he couldn’t help, Fin continues, “You started it! What is it, Munch, you getting acquainted with the feeling for the first time?"
He certainly didn’t count himself on the poll of jealous men. Maybe his view is skewered from his years on the force and only seeing the extremes like people becoming violent or winding up dead because of it. One of his ex wives, don’t ask him which, tried to ruffle his feathers by flirting with someone else in front of him but it didn’t have his desired effect. After all, he wasn’t a stranger to a ménage à trois. So maybe it’s because he’s simply superior than to fall victim to the social construct!
Then you came along and introduced him to something worse than mere jealousy.
"Detective!"
John barley glances up from his desk as you're chased down by Officer Peters yet again. The guy was persistent in all the wrong ways, if he focused on his job as much as he did your backside then he might be a half decent cop! You laughed when he told you that. It was a shared desire to keep your relationship under wraps for now, no one but HR needed to know... and Fin, which was a decision he was beginning to regret.
"I get it now." He whispers, leaning further on his partner's desk to watch the scene before them.
"Can I get you a popcorn? Get off my desk!" John hisses, but for once doesn't enforce his words because he's also eavesdropping, just not as painfully obvious as Fin.
Of course he trusts you— and make no mistake, receiving John Munch's trust was like holding the holy grail in your hands. He knows you won't cheat on him, not like you'd have the time anyways. Morning, noon and night you two are together, be it at work or away from it. He was sure you'd be sick of him by now but he's being proved wrong at every turn. You do little things throughout the day, like leave him snacks or sticky notes, that have him wondering how the hell you two hadn't been caught yet!
"Peters," you sigh knowingly, "do you have the Madison file?"
"Getting to that, don't worry.” It infuriates John how quickly the schmuck dismisses you. No, instead of doing his job, Peters laughs and waves an arm out before he crosses them, “In the meantime I was thinkin' that we should could go dancing this weekend. Got a few others comin’ so it'd be a group date— thing— totally casual. Stay out late, have some drinks, y’know, party for once! Whattaya say?”
There it is.
Envy.
Green like jealousy, only it worms deeper and hits all the wrong spots that makes John feel both pissed and vulnerable; an ugly cocktail. Sure, you’re no party animal but most people your age go out, dance, have fun. Instead, you spent your Friday nights sharing takeout in the precinct or on his couch. Dates varied from errands, the bar, going to the bookshop to the occasional (and usually interrupted) dinner at an overpriced restaurant. Munch did it best to spoil you, he did… it just never felt like enough. You deserved more than he could give and that feeling was worse than wanting to punch this guys’ lights out.
“No thanks, Peters. I’d rather hangout with my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” He echoes, having the audacity to sound offended.
Abruptly the rooms volume drops, letting everyone hear Fin’s poorly concealed snickers. John picks his jaw off the floor when you throw a glare his way, acting occupied with paperwork he was supposed to be doing. The faint feeling of triumph at your tiny admission is addicting. He can’t stop the smirk that spreads.
Olivia happens to pass by the two at the perfect time, slowing her walk when she catches the gossip.
“A boyfriend, huh?”
Her cheshire grin is aimed right at you. If John didn’t know any better, she might’ve been onto you two. But no, if Olivia knew she would’ve busted his balls for it by now.
Backtracking and trying to catch up to the conversation, Elliot looks around with furrowed brows and suspicious eyes.
“Who has a boyfriend?” He announces even louder, looking at everyone in the room for an answer.
Groaning, you roll your eyes and snap a finger in the officers direction, “Get me the Madison file, Peters, today.”
John sends him a withering glare for making a tsk sound at you.
When you try and walk around the dynamic duo, they block your path and immediately grill you with questions. Yeah, this was exactly why you two didn’t want anyone knowing. One day it would probably blow up in your faces and you’d get an earful, but today it was still your little secret.
“What’s his name?” Elliot asks as he crosses his arms, taking up that ‘disappointed dad’ look.
“So you can look him up? I don’t think so, Stabler.”
Olivia whacks his arm for being so obvious, “What’s he like?”
An obscenely perfect smile breaks across your face. You catch your eyes drifting to John and make it look like you’re rolling them again.
“He’s too smart for his own good, stupidly handsome and worships me like I’m a god. Total package. We done here?”
You snort and push between the detectives, making your way to your desk. They follow after you like hunting dogs going in for the kill.
“Blasphemy is a dangerous game.” Eliot shakes his head with pursed lips, “I don’t like him.”
“Good thing you don’t have to share a bed with him, Stabler.”
Olivia’s laugh has him shooting a glare. He throws his hands up in defeat and walks to his desk, muttering under his breath.
“Too bad you’re off the market,” she winks and lowers her voice slightly, “Munch must be jealous.”
When Olivia left your desk, and Fin left his, the two of you shared a fond, knowing glance.
the older i get and the longer i go without a relationship, the wilder my imagination runs with its fictitious scenarios of trust, bond, betrayal, union, intimacy, and community.
fantasy and reality are one and the same. and it’s exhausting living in a world where seemingly no one can live up to my own imagination.
depravity is the mother of necessity, necessity is the womb of the abused imaginator.
Out there on Earth, there's a man living his life, having no idea that he has helped save an indigenous species light years away from his home planet, all because he killed some guy's twin brother for a few bucks.
i never thought of it this way,,,,this way of the thinking is so beautiful op i love how your brain works….this is such a delicious thought thank you for sharing it with us 🥹💕
karma doesn’t catch you, it just sends you a man that’s going through a phase that you went through 3 years ago and healed from, just so you can watch it actively destroy him
i’m healed enough to know i can’t change him, but i also wonder if he’s a reflection of my guarded emotionally availability….
why are there so many typos in published books…..as an editor this is your job to catch these things and EDIT this shit out. you get paid to use your eyes and PROOF-READ HELLLLOOOOO
i’m spooked because why am i reading big-brained material and nearly every-other HEADLINE HAS A TYPO???? THE HEADLINE???? C’MON MAN THIS ISN’T EVEN THE TINY FONT STUFF, THIS SHIT IS IN YOUR FACE JUST BLARING AT YOU 😭😭😭
if someone WANTS to be placed in the outlast universe, that’s a BLARING sign that we gotta get SWAT and pull them out of whatever situation they’re in IMMEDIATELY (this is me talking about middle school me; but this can also apply to any horror piece of media too cause why do you wanna be in the saw universe just to cuddle with the killer/survivor…..what are YOU surviving 🤨?)
now standing here, i couldn’t fathom lasting a single hour in the outlast universe because 1. showers and 2. my curly hair.
i have curly hair. and that might seem mundane or trivial but i believe that is so significant to the story of my life. i didn’t know i had curly hair until a few years ago, and that was told to me by a friend. and it wasn’t until a few months prior that i seriously began experimenting with products.
last night i finally did a start to finish curl product routine and i was actually shocked when the end result was amazing!!!! apparently curly hair pairs well with curly hair products!!!! who knew!!!! (i didn’t LMAOOO)
surprisingly for all the products i put into my hair, it’s the lightest and bounciest it’s ever been in my life. i’ve never been prouder of my hair ever. childhood me would’ve never known i had curly hair, she just kept brushing and brushing and brushing and wondering why it never straightened down to a pin-straight line.
anyways, i solemnly believe that once a curly-haired person realizes and starts treating their hair like curly hair, everything else falls correctly into place again (self esteem, self-worth, self-love, self-confidence, ofc through work, but it gets easier)
so this morning as i was going about my usual routine and looked in the mirror at my luscious hair, i realized i never wanted to ever be in the outlast universe. and that was the greatest form of growth little me could experience.
