mini-and-mighty
Am I Doing This Write?
Collection of gay stuff & ADHD hyperfixations. Mini_and_Mighty on AO3
[25, queer, they/she]
1605 posts
Last active 60 minutes ago
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
fenton-bus
Untitled
gentlemaninnthesuit
Deep Thinker
aetherblooms
masc sapphic trahearne agenda
writingintheshadowsforever
DREAMER
trustvital
Untitled
Text
Ask game: unpopular opinion edition <3
❤: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom?
🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?
💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
💙: Which character is not as hot as everyone else seems to think?
💜: Which character is way hotter than everyone else seems to think?
🤍: Which character is not as morally bad as everyone else seems to think?
🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?
💖: What is your biggest unpopular opinion about the series?
💔: If you had to remove one major character from the series, who would you choose?
💕: What is an unpopular ship that you like?
📖: If you had to remove one book from the series, which would you choose?
🏳️🌈: Which character who is commonly headcanoned as queer doesn't seem queer to you?
💀: If you had to choose one major character to die, who would you choose?
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
““What is an adventuring party if not a very dangerous polycule?””
—
823 notes
·
View notes
Text
The 1969 Easter Mass Incident
Content Warnings: Religion, food, symbolic cannibalism, symbolic gore, penis mention, Blasphemy, SO MUCH BLASPHEMY, weapons, war mention. Mind the warnings and your health always comes first. Its a HILARIOUS story, I promise.
As always, all the names have been changed to protect people��s identities. This is a long one, so Press J now if you want to skip it.
When my dad was a young man and still a practicing catholic, he participated in a small church communion that nearly got him and six other people excommunicated.
Father Patrick ran a small church outside of California Polytechnical and tended to be… rather more liberal in his interpretations of scripture than most of the church was, which made him something of a hit with the local students and liberally-inclined populace. Pat went to all manner of civil demonstrations, condemned the shit out of the vietnam war and the politics that lead to it and so on. In January of 1969 a series of incidents lead him to start exploring “nontraditional” means of holding Mass as a means of reaching out to his community and exploring his own faith, which ultimately culminated in the 1969 Easter Mass Incident.
For those of you who weren’t raised catholic, Communion is this ritual where you become one with Jesus by eating a really horrible bland wafer cookie and taking a shot of wine (called hosts), which then *literally* become the flesh and blood of jesus in your mouth, allowing him to become one with you. It’s big McFucking deal, and you have the opportunity to take communion at every mass. All this had to be explained to me second-hand because after this and Dad’s 51 days in the army, Dad decided he wouldn’t inflict religion on any children he might have in the future.
*
“Hey dad,” Six-year old me asked the first time he told me this story after my practicing friends were talking about getting wine at church. “Isn’t that cannibalism?”
“We’re getting to that.” He waved.
*
The First Incident in January when, due to a serious cock-up by the church, all the hosts Father Pat received were moldering and spoiled and probably would have killed someone if he’d actually fed anyone them. But it was the first mass of the year, when a peak number of people came in after vowing to got to church more for new year’s. He couldn’t NOT have communion.
“I’ll bake.” offered Maria, the parish secretary and probably the best baker in the county. “So we have hosts. Jesus will understand.”
Father Patrick, not one to pass up the chance at Maria’s cooking, immediately agreed.
A Host is supposed to be composed solely of unleavened wheat flour and water, which is why they taste terrible. It’s a theological point of some importance relating to Exodus or something but Maria had an important theological counterpoint: Jesus both divine and loves all his children, ergo, Jesus would neither be a nasty bland cracker nor want his children to suffer as such and so instead, she made Mexican wedding cookies.
They were a SPECTACULAR hit. Many praises were heaped upon father patrick for the Much Better Wafers and that they’d be sure to show up next week as long as Maria kept making them. Father Patrick figuring that hey, anything that gets people in the doors is good and really, if it was turning into Jesus once inside the parishioner, did it really matter what the wafers were made of? So he continued to let Maria bake the Hosts, and encouraged her to try out new flavors, like nutmeg and cinnamon.
This went on swimmingly for a few weeks until The Bishop showed up for a surprise visit the same week Maria decided to experiment with rainbow sprinkles.
Dad remembers hearing the bishop through the windows roaring “THE HOLY BODY OF CHRIST DOES! NOT! CONTAIN! RAINBOW! SPRINKLES!”
The matter went clean up to The Archbishop, who decided that while Pat was probably right to not feed spoiled hosts to his parish, he should attend some remedial classes to remember what Communion was all about, so that if it happened again, he’s come up with a more suitable substitute.
Father Patrick returned in late March, full of spite and some fascinating new ideas.
*
“Is this where the Cannibalism happens?” Six-year-old me asked, eager to get to the good parts.
*
At his remedial classes, the teacher had stressed the importance of transubstantiation, aka “That bit where the wafer and wine, Actually, Literally, become the flesh of Jesus Christ and we expect you to swallow.” Also on the syllabus was understanding the importance of Christ’s suffering and sacrifice.
“So, I was thinking about Easter Service.” Said father Patrick one afternoon while dad was doing his computer science homework at the church because his dorm was a barely-standing fire hazard and the library was where you went to have sex.
“Well, we do re-enactments for christmas. Why not on easter? Why not re-enact the crucifixion of Christ right here? Make it real for everyone. Trauma’s great for bonding a community together.”
“Who’s playing Jesus?” asked Maria, always one for a good laugh.
“That’s the thing- A Host, it doesn’t look much like flesh, right? Doesn’t look like much of anything, really. Not great for reinforcing one’s belief.
What if, instead, we- and I mean you, Maria, I can’t cook to save my life- make a man-sized loaf of bread, maybe in the shape of a T, and we have some of the boys dress up as romans and whip the bread and we pour the wine on so it’s bleeding and them- then we make a big wooden cross and actually nail the bread to it with, I don’t know, railroad spikes, more wine all over. And we raise the cross, all while telling the story of the crucifixion.”
He paused to take a drink, Maria slowly crumpling onto the floor in horrified laughter and Dad now thoroughly distracted from his homework.
“Then we lower the cross, and invite everyone who wants to take communion up to tear a hunk of Jesus off. Just descend into his corpse like vultures. I think that’d really be a good bonding experience for the church.” he nodded thoughtfully. “The hard, part, I suppose, will be finding enough romans.”
“I WANNA BE LONGINUS.” bellowed my father, barreling into the room.
And so, the plan was hatched. Dad hit up every other guy in the Church and eventually rounded up four more romans, three of them from the Education Department of Cal Poly, and one guy from Chemistry, who just liked to watch things burn.
This, being a play, naturally meant that there was a rehearsal, and test Bread jesus. Maria had decided that if they were going to start being extra-literal, she needed to make the most lifelike Bread jesus possible, and made a distressingly buff and human-proportioned Jesus by Advanced bread-braiding, complete with plaited hair, quail’s-egg-and-raisin eyes, bready muscle groups, and an eight-pack because why not make the lord completely shredded?* She also made the important theological decision that since Jesus loves everyone and was happy to die in spite of all his suffering, he should be smiling, and had a toothy corn-kernel smile. He was Wonderful and Terrifying all at once.
“Maria,” asked Father Patrick after a few minutes of delighted and horrified cooing over Jesus’ toothy grin and abdominals. “Why is he wearing a tea-towel?
“Well, he’s the Son of God. A Man. With all that entails.” She said, pointedly staring at Father Patrick while everyone stared at the suspiciously lumpy tea-towel. “And he might have… burnt, slightly.”
Everyone nodded and agreed that the tea-towel was the best course of action. The rehearsal goes splendidly and everyone agrees that this is the most delicious Jesus they’ve ever had.
*
Easter Sunday arrives and the Church is PACKED, from the more lapsed Catholics showing up for a high holiday, parents visiting for spring break and a whole horde of newcomers who had gotten wind that something was up and they ought to come.
Dad is a lanky as hell 21-year old composed mostly of technical jargon and acne but he is STOKED to be playing Longinus, the roman that speared Jesus on the cross, because he gets to do the BEST technical effect in the whole parade. Since he came in at the end me missed a good portion of the sermon, but did hear the “oooh” from the crowd as the massive cross was dragged in by the other Romans, followed by horrified gasps and high screams and a discernible “What the FUCK” as they brought in Bread Jesus 2.0, whipping him enthusiastically, and hammering him into the cross, the sound of wine splashing onto the floor loud in the terrified silence of that Parishioners.
Finally Father Patrick gets to the part about Longinus, and Dad comes sprinting down the aisle as hard as he can, because in order for Bread Jesus to be seen by everyone, his middle had to be about 10 feet off the ground, so Dad had to run, shrieking latin curses, down the length of the church, with a big honking spear and take a flying leap at Jesus in order to spear him in the gut.
Please take moment to imagine you are some normal god-fearing catholic who has decided to visit little bobby or maybe patricia at college and you’re all going to church together like a nice family and this Fucking madman has decided to go all Silence of the Lambs on mass and now there’s some sort of underfed translucently pale man in ill-fitting Roman armor and cape flying at a horrifying glutinous effigy of your lord and savior, with an actual fucking spear, screaming like a madman. Don’t you feel yourself drawing closer to God already? Defensively, perhaps, like an octopus trying to ooze itself into a crevice against the horrors of the ocean.
However, two things happen that were not planned on
1. Dad misses. In his defense, Bread Jesus is close to but not quite the size of a man- more like the size of a doughy teenager, and his middle is a small target 10 feet up in the air and dad is has a computer science minor, not an athletics scholarship. He misses by about 8 inches and instead very solidly stabs Bread Jesus right through the groin, leaving a big hole in Maria’s tea-towel and the spear jutting out at a decidedly… attentive angle, as Bread Jesus’s Bread Dick drops to the floor with a splat. Nobody notices this, however because
2. In rehearsal, Dad had managed to get the spear right in jesus’s navel but neither Father Patrick nor the other romans could get the wine up there to make his middle appropriately bloodied.
Maria come up with the Genius solution that since wine is made of grapes and Jam is made of grapes, she could make a jelly-filled Jesus for Dad to stab. There was a normal-sized test loaf and when dad stabbed it on the table, it had a nicely gooey dribbling effect.
However, this time the loaf was torso-sized, still hot from the oven and upright, so when dad speared the very end of the loaf, all the steam-pressured jam had collected at the bottom and a spray of lukewarm smuckers exploded out from bread jesus, turning the first three pews into a splash zone of symbolic entrails.
There was a hot, sticky minute of complete silence in the church after that.
Then, Father Patrick indicated it was time for the cross to be lowered, and continued on with the normal preparations of the Host, he himself covered in hot smuckers, as though nothing particularly ordinary was occuring, quietly kicking the bread-dick under the altar. At the end of it all, Father Patrick and invited everyone up with the Last Oration:
“Thou, O God, has kindly allowed us to have a part in this Holy Sacrifice; for this we give Thee thanks. Accept it now to Thy glory and be ever mindful of our weakness. Amen.”
…And everybody came up, shuffling like terrified zombies, pinching off tiny bits at first but then the madness took them and they began tearing apart bread jesus by the handful, weeping as they partook, scattered prayers and begging for forgiveness. The whole congregation was kneeling about the altar, tearful and united in their guilt and their need for God.
*
“IS CHURCH ALWAYS LIKE THAT?” six-year-old me asked, absolutely stoked. I’d convert on the spot if I got a show like that.
“No, it’s normally bland wafers and lots of chanting in latin.”
“Well that’s boring as hell.” I remember muttering and Dad snorting the coffee he was drinking out of his nose.
*
As people filed silently out of the Church to a gloriously sunny California afternoon, faces wan and smeared with wine and jam, Father patrick turned to Maria and asked “You don’t think that was too much, do you?”
“No.” Said Maria with a sarcastic deadpan so intense it was hard to tell from sincerity.
It was the exact same tone she used when the Archbishop and Six other high clergy showed up, clutching a letter someone had written, Livid and almost foaming at the mouth, demanding to know if such blasphemy had transpired.
“No. That’s crazy.” She said, staring down the archbishop like he was an idiot.
“Such imaginations some people have!” Said Father Patrick, much less convincingly.
“And you- you didn’t… Spear an effigy of our lord and savior?” the archbishop demanded of my father.
“Do I look like I can jump that high?” Dad asked, having in the interim been drafted for 51 days then nearly died of pneumonia from it, and therefore no longer afraid of the Church, the Law or God.
Somewhat relieved that he’d only received the extremely detailed ramblings of a doddering parishioner, the Archbishop sat down and complemented Maria on her most excellent Mexican Wedding Cookies, may he please have another plate for his nerves? Perhaps the ones with sprinkles?
Dad went on to help build the internet, Father Patrick converted to Buddhism and Maria became a Nun.
*For those of you wondering, Jesus was made of Challah.
If you got a laugh out of this, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or subscribe on Patreon, Thank you very much and I hope you enjoyed it!
#yes i reblog this every easter#growing up catholic just be like that#happy easter#ex catholic#blasphemy
97K notes
·
View notes
Text
unstoppable force (desire to write) vs immovable object (tired)
16K notes
·
View notes
Text
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
🎁💕🦋📚🔮🎨 for the writer ask game
Bailey! You're always so sweet, seriously makes me smile every time I see one of your messages.
🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?
So this is actually from my 2023 NaNoWriMo project; our protag Hadley has accidentally summoned a demon and decides to introduce it to her best friend, Beth.
Hadley rubbed the back of her neck anxiously. “No, but it’s…” She wracked her brain for something to say but there was no way to explain it without sounding like a crazy person. “Just, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Alright then. You can show her.”
“Show me– achk!” The choked off shriek that came from Beth was about what Hadley expected, although she was grateful that the girl hadn’t screamed outright.
She turned back to her roommate and held up both hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay, so I can sort of explain but the most important thing is that it’s not going to hurt us.”
“Probably not.” Avorsael said.
“Oh how is that helpful?” she demanded, watching the panic and mixed emotions play out across Beth’s face.
“Who said I was trying to be helpful?”
💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?
Omg this one is basically impossible. I think my favorite would have to be 'Gentle Repose', since that one started out as a very short scene idea and turned out into a really sweet, fully formed fic. But it's hard to pick one favorite, even the cringey ones I posted at 12 y/o have a special place in my heart.
🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?
Really Bailey? I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count. 😂
Of course it's Ahsoka Tano. I've always said that I basically grew up alongside the character, but looking back at my writing, I can see that the version of her in my fics "grew up" too. I'm able to convey a lot more nuance and depth of detail (I think) that was really challenging as a young writer.
📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?
Gods, there are so many amazing writers out there and I am continually blown away by the talent and passion, people writing entire novels simply because they love it.
Limiting myself to just five, as hard as that is: @dells-bells , @anxiety-banana , @lynnpaper , @webtrinsic1122 and @jedimasterbailey
🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?
Write badly. Be self indulgent, be cliche, dig out your OCs from middle school that were really just thinly veiled self-inserts. Write absolute utter nonsense and then rewrite. Writing is just dragging the ideas out of your head kicking and screaming, rewriting is where the real magic happens to turn them into a story.
🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?
Well if someone made fanart of any of the fics I've written for my D&D character, Maggie Marigold, I'd probably lose my mind and frame the damn thing.
I would love to see anything from 'The Forging' or specifically the scene of Ahsoka and Barriss sharing a cot in 'That joins the Sky and Earth' because I put as much sapphic energy into that as humanely possible.
.
Ask me anything or reblog the original game so I can ask you questions too!
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fanfic Writer Ask Game
These are always fun so I wanted to make one! Reblog this and let others send you an ask based on any of these emojis/questions:
❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?
💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?
✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?
👻 What is your wildest headcanon?
✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?
🚀 Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?
🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?
🏷 Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?
⏰️ Do you like to post fics on a schedule or at random?
👓 What helps you focus when you write?
💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?
🐇 Do you write for yourself, for others, or both?
🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?
🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?
🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?
🍬 Do you write for multiple fandoms? If yes, what is your favorite fic of yours for each fandom?
🌻 How often do you read your own fics?
📗 Do you want to write something outside of fanfiction? If so, what about?
🎬 If a movie or show were based on your fic, which fic would you choose and who would you fancast?
💭 What inspires you and your writing?
🧪 Do you research for your fics?
😎 What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?
💎 Do you often write about a relationship or focus on an individual?
🔥 Have you included any sexy scenes in your fics? If yes, do you find them easy or difficult to write?
💘 Is it easier to write angst or fluff?
🚦What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?
💡How many WIPs do you currently have?
🔎 Does anyone beta read or edit your fics?
📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?
🤩 What led to your interest in the fandom?
🤖 Are non-fandom friends aware that you write fanfic?
💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?
👑 Do you like writing short fics or long fics?
🎯 Do you have a writing milestone you’re working towards?
🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?
🤔 Would you ever want to write something canon if you got the opportunity?
💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?
🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
People worrying is their fic is too self indulgent like....... that is the point of fanfiction. You are supposed to indulge . Every fic is self indulgent
50K notes
·
View notes
Text
Pink Floyd fans, speaking from experience, usually fit into one or more categories of person:
cool trans woman
someone's dad
stoner
melancholic leftist
these elements are essential pieces to the Pink Floyd fandom. many fans will embody more than one element here, but we await the day when the Avatar, master of all four elements, returns to save the world
#someone's dad#just my general vibe#c'mon sport lets go get a milkshake and talk about what girls you've got a crush on#i'll wear my cargo pants#pink floyd#music
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sports bra is lingerie if you're good enough at gender
12K notes
·
View notes
Text
THE MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL (1992)
Dir. Brian Henson
13K notes
·
View notes
Text
111K notes
·
View notes
Text
"Gilbert would have given anything to notice earlier. To his credit, Violet had never been the most forthcoming individual. It had taken him ages to get her to initiate conversations rather than only speaking when spoken to, but it was still nearly impossible for him to tell what she was truly thinking or feeling. He’d seen her scan a shelf looking for a book to read and decapitate a man twice her size, all while wearing the exact same neutral expression.
Still. She was his charge. He should’ve seen. "
2 notes
·
View notes