#I’m just talking to myself in the tags by now

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑴𝒂𝒎𝒂’𝒔 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑩𝒐𝒚*

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Older Reader hinted at as much as I could lol. Bratty!Jeongin, Hair pulling, biting/hickeys, face sitting, oral(f), Edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple rounds/orgasms and creampies, “mama” used, I think I used noona once. Sorry for any missing tags or missing warnings.

A/N: This is a little shorter than I wanted it to be but *Cough cough* I’m always in need of a bratty jeongin who gets put in his place by an older reader.

Find Request Here

-🖤

Jeongin was being particularly feisty today. Making snippy comments back to anything you had said. Even a simple “can you grab that for me” was met with a huff. You didn’t know what got into him but you were getting annoyed with it. “Jeongin” you said sternly looking at him as he looked grumpy on the couch. When he didn’t reply you said his name again.

“What!” He said glaring at you.

“Fix that attitude” you said glaring back at him.

“I don’t have an attitude” he said crossing his arms looking back at the tv.

You sighed, so he wanted to play this game did he. You walked over to him standing in front of the tv. He huffed turning off the tv “whatever, I’ll just go to the room.” He said getting up from the couch. Oh. Oh he was in for it.

You grabbed his arm, pushing him back to the couch. “Excuse you?” You said now hovering above him.

“What the hell!” He hissed back.

“Yeah? What the hells with your attitude!”

“I told you I don’t have an attitude! Stop acting like you’re my- my fucking mother!” He growled back.

You looked at him for a second tilting your head. Gritting your teeth leaning close to him “say that again.” You could see him crumbling under your gaze.

“I- i-“ he stuttered out.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, straddling his lap you ran your hand up the back of his head. Grabbing a chunk of hair pulling it ever so slightly. “Guess I’m just gonna have to fix that attitude myself huh? Dumb little fox” you said voice almost in a hum. You could see him gulp before you leaned down biting his neck. He groaned at the pain his hands flying up to your side. “Nuh uh, you don’t deserve to touch me” you said slapping his hands away.

“That’s not fair” he whined.

“You know what’s not fair? The unwarranted attitude I received all day” you said looking down at him. “Now you either listen or I’ll get the ropes” you said firmly. He slinked his hands back down to his side before you continued your movements on his neck. When he was finally all covered in marks you pulled away standing up. “Pants. Off.” You said and he complied right away. “Good now you can help take mine off.” You said.

He did as he was told stripping you of your bottom and panties. “Lay down on the couch” you demanded. Again doing as he was told hoping you’d let him off a little easy but that wasn’t gonna happen. Not after the attitude he had today, oh no. “Keep those hands to yourself” you said before positioning yourself so your cunt was hovering over his head. “You’re gonna make me cum before I even think about touching you” you said before letting your body down on him. He looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, eyes that were already rolling back at your taste.

He lapped at your folds, tongue darting into your core. You grabbed his hair rolling your hips on his tongue. You let out a small chuckle seeing his knuckles turning white from gripping the couch. As you rolled your hips you leaned back grabbing his cock. He jumped at the sudden touch making him groan. You started moving your hand faster and faster knowing he wasn’t gonna last. “Close” he choked out. You let go of him making him whine ruining his high. You kept up the torture anytime he was close letting go before continuing the cycle.

“Please” he whimpered out.

“Why should I let you cum when you haven’t even made me cum yet hmm?”

“No-Noona- m’sorry” he cried.

“Less talking my little fox” you said ever so sweetly.

Jeongin was now on a mission, sucking at your clit as you road his face. He bit ever so gently, the moan you let out had his head turning. You were close- fuck and so was he again. His hands finally found their way to your hips pulling you down onto him as far as you could. His hands slinking their way up your chest. As much as you wanted to protest you didn’t feeling your high quickly approaching. Something jeongin knew all too well is that you needed his touch, you craved it as much as he craved yours.

“Please cum for me! Please please” he begged. Those pretty eyes stared up at you with desperation. You were gone. Pulling his hair harshly as your legs closed around him. He licked you clean like the good boy you knew he was.

When you finally came down from your high you shifted yourself down. With no warning to him you sunk yourself down taking his cock fully. Seating yourself perfectly on him. He moaned out body moving like he was trying to get away “can’t- I’m-“ he couldn’t even get out the words before he was cumming deep inside of you. “M’sorry” he said in a whisper.

“It’s okay baby, it’s only the start” you said with a devilish grin.

You moved up and down on his sensitive cock, it still slightly hard. His hands gripped at your hips pathetically whimpering. “T’much- m’so sensitive-“ he cried it only falling on deaf ears though.

“Gonna keep that attitude in check my little fox?” You said looking down at his contorted face. He nodded. “Use your words baby” you coo’d.

“Yes- yes! M’sorry I’ll be good”

“Mamas good boy?” You said.

“Mm- ah- mams good boy!” He stuttered out feeling himself about to cum again.

The night went on with this. You had him cumming over and over, but so were you. “Mama please!- can’t- can’t-“ he cried out.

“One more baby? Just one more please my little fox” you said.

When he nodded you leaned your body down. Kissing him sloppily hands tangling in his hair. The sounds of multiple creampies filled the air with sloshing noises. You were sticky from sweat body’s sticking together like glue. You tugged on his hair gently making him whimper into the kiss. “My good boy” you said softly. His hands coming around you before one final thrust he was cumming again. He moved his hands down your body playing with your overly sensitive clit. “N-no you gotta- please cum for me” he groaned out his little hip movements pushing everything deep into you.

He chased your lips hungrily before squeezing your clit gently, sending you over the edge once more. Your legs shook. Body completely collapsing into his. He held onto you whispering little I’m sorrys only for you to shush him. “It’s ok baby, you- you were such a good boy, even making sure I came after you did” you said kissing his cheek gently.

“Let’s get cleaned up and we can have those cookies I made” you said with a smile. Making him nod happily. After showering and cookies you both were curled up on the couch. Jeongin falling asleep in your arms.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[hplonesomeart]

Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye

[prozacwhorehouse]

camera roll 📷 | mgg x snl cast member au

in which you do a variety ‘what’s in my camera roll?’ interview and reveal moments from your life

authors note: this lowk sucks but new subplot alert?? i love I used to be funny so i just had to. matthew mixed in with some background for our snl reader ✅

“Hi Variety, this is y/n y/l/n,” you smile and and give a wave to the camera, “and today I’m showing you what’s in my camera roll.”

“This is a picture of me at the premier for a movie I did in 2022, called I Used To Be Funny,” you turn your phone towards the camera, revealing a picture a friend took of you posing underneath the title outside a movie theater in Los Angeles.

“I had the pleasure of running into the very talented Ally Pankiw at an event in 2022, and when she said she’d seen my shows and asked me if I’d audition, I read the script and immediately felt drawn to it,” you speak with your hands, imitating an emulation from your body. “It was funny, it was devastating, it’s an incredible story that I’m so honored to have helped tell.”

“I always wanted to be an actress. So landing that role the same year I was cast on SNL, just a dream come true.” you smile warmly at the memory, moving on to your next picture.

You huff out a laugh looking at the next picture, “aww. I love this one, a lot,” you again turn your phone towards the camera, revealing a picture of Marcello, you, Michael, Molly, and Devon on set.

“This is me and my SNL 22 Crew, which is the name of our group chat,” you nod, “pretty sure this was right before our first show. we were so nervous but it was all okay because we had each other. We were all in the same boat, and that was comforting. Ugh,” you sigh, tilting your head up and smiling, “I just love them so much.”

“it was really hard to pick this next one because my camera roll is currently 60 percent him. All he says is ’wait take a picture’, so now I just have a whole collection of silly photos,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance, trying to distract from the blush that has crept on your face while talking about him.

‘I’m not entirely sure where we were here, all I know is anything Halloween, Matthew wants a picture with. We had dressed up all crazy, I had on an insane fall sweater and like, striped witch tights. I do really love mismatching clothes, layering and looking insane, which I don’t really see a lot of guys doing?” you furrow your brows and squint your eyes in thought, releasing when admitting, “so I feel really seen by him. He isn’t afraid to be himself, so it makes me feel like I can be myself too. It’s amazing. He’s great. I’m very thankful for him.”

“Aww,” you jut your lip out, heart melting over the picture. “I was having a really rough week. I remember my sketch got cut, and I couldn’t think of how to make them better. I walked into my bathroom one morning and Matthew had stuck this on my mirror. I have so many pictures of these, but I picked this one because it was the first.”

You hum, “I could go on, but, I won’t,” you laugh, tilting your head back down to your phone, quickly exhaling to get back on track, “anyways!” Causing the crew to laugh behind the camera.

And the comments are all like

Loved her in I Used To Be Funny. So talented!

I hope she’s on SNL for a while, she’s one of the best additions in a while

The way she talks about Matthew is the cutest thing

Its so cute that y/n and Matthew are getting more public with their relationship, this is the first time she’s mentioned him by name

THE NOTE HE LEFT HER I NEED TO SEE THE OTHERS

—————————————————————————

tag list <3

@sarcasm-and-stiles @mystargirl-interlude @rubyirene @ashrrams @ghostatrixx @forevermorepassionate @saint-boudica @reidmarieprentiss @awakeforu @spencerlicious @kittycat-april @baudarling @delusional-4-fake-people @avenlymars @angelinajolie0213 @arusio @littleslayofhorrors @jezabelle9299 @jaemnationnn @princess-ofthe-pages @flow33didontsmoke

[hyperfix-wip]

Next to You

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader/ Spider-Punk x GN!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Author's Note: I am not sorry @the-kr8tor , @yumeaoka-chan , @pleaktale. And @rexlroze , YOU have specifically kickstarted the Loser!Hobie rabbit hole, and I have now got myself into loving these losers lmao. I'd like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading for me and helping me out with this piece! Also, this piece contains some spoilers for Arcane Season 2, so don't read it if you don't want to be spoiled!

Tags: Lovestruck!Hobie, Loser!R, Nerd!R, Fluff, Spoilers for Arcane Season 2, Some Explicit Language

Hobie knew what he signed up for when he asked you out.

Despite your typically quiet personality, he knew you were passionate at heart. He knew that when he jumped through the portal to your universe and landed on your bed, only to see you bawling your eyes out over an animated show before you screamed bloody murder from his sudden arrival and fell down on the floor. He knew that when he looked around your room and saw all the posters of different shows and artists covering your walls, all your favorite books and figurines lined up on your shelves, the sketchbooks filled with all of your favorite characters in your specific art style. He knew that when his eyes landed on your pajama bottoms with some cute bison-like mascot from a show he overheard you talk about with Miles at the Spider Society. 

Even if you were scrambling off the floor, too flustered to make any coherent words to him while struggling to pause your show, he knew he liked this new side of you he discovered. And he especially knew he he was smitten with you the moment he asked you about the show you were watching, watching your eyes instantly light up before you drag him onto the bed and restart the show for him, obliviously nestling against his side while you eagerly ran your mouth about the premise of the show.

Yeah, he knew what he signed up for when he asked you out after binging the whole series with you.

Which was why he was prepared for you bawling your eyes out and smearing clear snot on his shirt while he cradled you in his arms. He gently shushed you while the end credits quietly ran in the background, running his long nimble fingers through your hair before pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“ ’s okay, lovie,” he whispered against your skin as he peppered more tender kisses, “I know, I know…”

Hiccups and sobs wracked up your body as you buried your face into his chest, your voice muffled into the cotton fabric. “It’s– It’s not fair! They were– they were together again! The writers couldn’t even let them be together for one full day?!”

Hobie quietly pulled the fluffy duvet from the end of your bed over the two of you, wrapping you into a tight embrace within the blanket and in his arms. “I know, darling, I know…”

“It’s just– it hurts so much! The fact that Isha was the one who did that, and it just paralleled with–”

“Yes, I know, luv–”

“Like, they didn’t have make Isha’s last moments an alternate version of Powder’s attempt in Season One where Powder’s plan worked–”

“I know, sweetheart–”

“And the pastel colors during the memory sequence for Isha– fuck– she basically remembers the Undercity as this bright and fun place because of Jinx, and not only did Jinx and Vi had to relive the trauma of losing Vander through Warwick again, but Jinx had to basically watch her baby sister, her inner child, and a version of herself sacrifice herself in front of her eyes…”

A hiccup wracked up your body again before fresh tears flooded your red-rimmed eyes, and Hobie wrapped his arms tighter around you while you sobbed into his chest again. “Fuck– I can’t– I don’t think I’m gonna last for the next three episodes–”

Hobie shushed you gently again while brushing his lips along your hairline, his fingers gently scratching your scalp while his other hand reached out for the cup of water he set to the side before you played the new episode. “C’mon, sit up for me, lovie,” he whispered against your forehead before carefully shifting the both of you up against the headboard. “Don’ wan’cha ta turn int’a raisin on me…”

You could only nod with a sniffle in response, blinking away the bleary tears in your eyes and snorting the clear mucus back up your red nose, before you sat up and grabbed the plastic cup from him. The moment you took a sip, the cool water instantly flooded and alleviated your raw throat, and you slowly drained the cup until it turned up empty.

A small smile curled up on Hobie’s lips as he gingerly grabbed the cup from your hands and set it back onto your nightstand. Without another thought Hobie then grabbed the hem of his shirt and peeled it off, goosebumps instantly pricking his skin as the cold air hit it, before gently pushing the shirt against your nose.

“Blow.”

You instantly obliged and blew your nose into his shirt, and he carefully pinched your nose and rubbed the snot off before tossing it across the room and on top of the pile of your dirty laundry in your hamper.

“Kobe.”

“Still don’ know who tha’ bloke is, but sure, lovie.”

A shaky chortle slipped through your lips before Hobie pulled you back into his arms and wrapped the blanket over you two again.

“Y’know, you could've gotten up to get a napkin instead of using your shirt–”

“It is too bloody cold to get out of this bed,” Hobie snickered while tucking your head underneath his chin. “Plus my shirt was already your personal snot rag, so it didn’t make a difference.”

You rolled your eyes with a sniffle before you nuzzled against his chest, and he in turn pressed his lips against your forehead again with a slight smirk. Your television gently illuminated the both of you in the dark, and you glanced up to see the blue light glinting from his piercings and his warm, dark eyes. His face softened at the sight of you, with splotchy skin and red-rimmed eyes, and he couldn't help but find you adorable in that moment. His arms pulled away in lieu of cupping your cheeks with his hands, and he gently tilted your head up to brush his lips against yours in a brief, comforting kiss. Your lips reluctantly parted from each other, with you trying to chase his lips to steal another one in vain, before he wrapped his arms around you in another tight embrace.

“...was this season as good as you hoped it would be, lovie?”

“God, yes, it’s so fucking good.”

Hobie huffed out a small chuckle while you tangled his lanky legs with yours. “Like, I can’t wait for Act Three to come out in a few days, but I also know it’s going to hurt so much watching those last episodes and have to watch the conclusion of it…”

Hobie nodded along with a tender smile as he gazed back down, his chest warming up as you started your cute little rant again. One of his hands trailed up your back and lingered on the back of your neck, gently massaging it while you continued talking.

“Like, I know there is going to be a clusterfuck of emotional damage for me at the end of this season. We still gotta see Ekko and Heimerdinger, we gotta see what’s gonna happen next for Jinx, Vi and Caitlyn, and we also have to deal with Jayce and Viktor– oh my god, that fucking scene of Jayce aiming that fucking cannon at Viktor–”

Hobie’s smile grew softer the more he listened to you, your voice still slightly raw and hoarse from the prolonged crying and your eyes glinted with the same eager light he saw that fateful day months ago, and his chest warms up just the same, his heart just as smitten with you as before.

You instantly stopped talking the moment a weight pressed down against the top of your head, and you pushed your head up to see Hobie’s eyes closed and his lips parted with shallow breaths. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the sleeping man huddled against you, his demeanor relaxed and languid as his lips curled up into a small, boyish smile, before you carefully pulled the blanket over him and pressed a gentle peck against his lips and nestled against him to join him in his slumber.

-----

Song Recommendation of the Day courtesy of @pinksugarscrub

[oonajaeadira]

wip wednesday whenever.

LOL. You know, I was surprised when @moonlitbirdie tagged me. I was really starting to believe people forgot I used to write things and it brought me a fair amount of joy to be tagged.

And then @grogusmum. And @the-blind-assassin-12. And now @insomniamamma. I know you probably don't mean it this way, but it feels like the lot of you just invited me to tea for an intervention to say "YOU GOT THIS. JUST WRITE ANYTHING. WE DON'T CARE WHAT. REJOIN THE PARTY."

I love it here.

Anyway, thank you, friends. I'm taking it as an encouragement. <3

I'm about to get my feet swept out from under my ass by the General tonight, so let's have some fluffy Fink x Farrah before I lose myself completely to Roman lust and longing....

There’d been two full moons since Farrah came to the island and she adjusted fast to their strange way of life. She wasn’t as hard driven by hunger as some of the other animals and gained from their talks that was because food had been more scarce where she was from and she was patient when it came to waiting for meals. Fish and shellfish had already been a big part of her diet. 

So she must have come from another island…but Fink couldn’t be sure. Anytime he’d ask more about it, she’d change the subject or go quiet. And she was very very good at being quiet. Probably had to learn that with fur like hers. It’s a wonder she made it to maturity without proper camouflage. Silence and speed would be her only options.

Except when she laughed. She laughed loud and high, almost a cry when she was really going. Farrah was easy to amuse and he made sure to do so whenever he had the chance. He wanted to see her happy and settled here. With him.

And he just liked to hear her laugh. Nobody laughed at his jokes like she did.

“That is the look of a lovelorn fox,” Paddler dryly declared one day, turning away to scrape away at a massive trunk with his crooked incisors. Fink had just cracked a joke at a squirrel’s expense–and not a clever one either, something about the size of nuts–and Farrah had laughed before bounding off after a butterfly. The beaver’s remark made Fink realize that he was wearing a dopey grin and he shook it off, but not before Paddler added, “Be direct. Build her a dam to show how you feel.”

“I’m not going to give her a dam.”

“Ha! Very good! I see what you did there. But I’m telling you, fine fellow. We may be swimming among the trees as a pike in the waters of the river, but the ladies still love a good bit of worked wood. You have that home–a good design, said because, as you will remember it is mine–but a little riverside palace of her own? Eh? What a treat.”

Fink rolled his eyes, playing cavalier. “It’s not like that. We’re–” over in the near clearing, Farrah’s fur sparkled white in the sinking sun, her head tilting side to side as she watched two butterflies dancing, trying to pick up on their whispers, quiet and still….and beautiful. “--friends.”

“Ha!” Paddler choked on a laugh. “You fool no one, sir. Just give her a treasure and be done with it. I’m telling you a dam always does the job, but I suppose you must do as your ilk do.” 

“Is that why there's no Mrs. Paddler?”

“Oh ho! I have had my salacious share of affairs, I assure you. My dams are well-given and wide spread. I am focusing on other projects at the moment,” he boasted with a grand gesture towards his gnarled tree, and turned back to his gnawing.

--That Awooo Inside You, Pt. 2.

tagging: @brandyllyn @littlemisspascal @nicolethered @missredherring @something-tofightfor

[rafesangelita]

the person behind this blog is the same person behind two other blogs (probably more) that i’ve blocked because this person has continuously harrassed me for a while now. this person has made burner accounts and spammed my inbox with hate, along with copying and other things that i have actual proof of. screen shots, screen recordings, i have them all. this person is also a minor, so blogs beware if you don’t allow minors to interact with your account!

for reasons unknown to me, this person has had a personal vendetta against me for absolutely no reason. the only thing i could think of as to why they act out like this is because i block them as soon as i see their accounts interact with mine. i have never, and will never, send anyone hate or be rude to anyone who hasn’t been rude to me. i really don’t care enough to know why this person is doing this, and will just continue to block their accounts.

if i have something to say to anyone, or if i have a problem with something anyone has said or done, i will come to you direct. period. i don’t need to hide behind anon to talk my shit <3 @dolliedrama (i can’t properly tag her because i have her blocked) and whatever accounts you have/continue to make: the very LEAST you can do if you’re going to make all these accounts is make them believable. i’m not even asking you to stop what you’re doing, i’m asking you to be better at it 🎀 i’m twenty years old with a degree, working in a career field that i love with my whole heart, making enough money to spoil myself whenever i want (even though my boyfriend already does that for me), with my own place and my own car, bills on autopay. i promise you this is not serious to me.

i’m here writing fanfiction for fun, that’s it. i have no ulterior motives with this blog except sharing fics and publishing works because, surprisingly to me, people love it. i’m not here to argue or explain to anyone, let alone you, what i have and haven’t done. i’m grown bb, thank you for being so passionate and keeping tabs on me. mwah! <3

just so there’s no “speculations” that i’m rude, i’ll come out and say it for everyone— if you make blogs like this you need to get on indeed.com immediately, like yesterday. find something better to do with your time. drink some matcha, bounce on some dick, smell some flowers… this is not the way, ladies !!!

[eggscaffolding]

My biggest most secret confession go:

I knew nothing about Supernatural. I was eleven-ish when I was looking through Netflix and I found it, wow!!

I was pretty sheltered so I had no idea it was insanely popular, I just went “wowoahh monster killing fun”

However, my mom was iffy on horror/monster-y things (see above about being sheltered) so I felt as if this was the eighth deadly sin, and hid the fact I was watching it like I would be sent to the stocks or something

Here’s where it actually kicks in.

A while later, I’m still enjoying Supernatural (still unaware of its popularity) and my mom has gotten way more chill

My mother, brother, and I tended to watch an episode or two of a show together as a family each Friday night or something

You might know where this is going

SO IMAGINE MY 11/12 YEAR OLD SURPRISE WHEN

I hear the DREADED, the FEARED, the MOST AWFUL THING POSSIBLE

“Oh this looks fun” and I LOOK UP TO SEE SUPERNATURAL (my mom was ALSO like “woah!!!! killing monsters! Fun!!)

So I’m freaking out but I stay calm

I was built for this

I had years of drama camp under my belt and I was ready to put on the act of my life

And like any logical person, instead of saying ANYTHING about the fact I know it, or even know it exists, I go “yeah sure seems cool” when they ask if we should watch it

THEN

For the next like… FOUR OR FIVE SEASONS??? I watch with them SLOWLY and the ENTIRE TIME I am pretending I have NEVER seen ANY of it and went “oh wow I hope he makes it (😰)” and stuff for the WHOLE TIME

then after a point, I got tired of hiding the fact my Netflix account (which was very much able to be seen by them) was like three seasons ahead, so I told them I just watched ahead on my own account because I wanted to find out what happened next

And THAT is how I explained that away

But wait

It gets BETTER (maybe)

To this day, they still have NO clue that this happened. I have never told them that we did not discover Supernatural as a family, I will never tell them just found it and watched it in secret.

It’s too late to go back and this will be kept to my grave.

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[lavander-galaxy]

man what’s got him so flustered huh

@sonderfairy

[pizzaqueen]

I've had this scene in my mind of Eddie encountering Steve’s dad at the hospital post S4 for a while but I didn't know what to do with it. I've written it up, anyway, and I'm posting it here instead of letting it languish. Maybe I'll do something else with it one day?

Just over 800 words, warnings for being in the hospital, I guess and maybe being a little angsty

The first time Eddie meets Steve’s dad, it’s at the hospital, after everything. He’s seen Steve’s dad before, of course he has, everyone knows the Harringtons. But it's always been from a distance, and Mr. Harrington has always seemed arrogant and out of touch.

Eddie waits until Wayne is asleep in the chair beside his bed to get up. Between the shit he's hooked up to and the tightly bandaged wounds, it's not easy, but he needs to do this.

He pulls back the edge of the curtain dividing his bed from Steve’s, then pauses. Steve is lying there, dark circles under his eyes, unconscious and pale and looking less like one of the heroes from Eddie's stories and more like a boy who's seen too many awful things, given too much of himself to them.

Guilt wells up beneath the cotton wool feeling of the painkillers that have been pumped into him. It’s not because it’s Eddie’s fault, but Eddie’s here, on his feet, and Steve isn’t. He will be, though. He has to be.

There’s a vague memory playing in Eddie's mind of Steve carrying him out of that fucking place, Steve's breathing labored, his arms strong but trembling. He'd barely made it out of there before he'd collapsed to the ground with Eddie still in his arms. Everything goes kind of dark after that.

Eddie’s about to step forward, say something—thank you, would be a start—even if Steve can’t hear him, but then he notices that Steve isn’t alone. There’s a man sitting by his side, in the twin of the crappy plastic chair Eddie’s uncle is hunched over in on Eddie’s side of the curtain. He’s wearing a gray sweater and he’s got a sweep of dark hair that looks like he’s been running his hands through it and his nose is the same sharp line as Steve’s.

"Jesus Christ, Steve," he says, voice small and broken, "what the hell did you get yourself into?" His hand rests by Steve’s on the stark white hospital sheet, his pinkie finger hooked over Steve’s.

Steve’s breathing is deep and steady and Mr. Harrington chews on his lip, watching Steve so intently he doesn’t seem to have noticed Eddie standing at the corner of Steve’s bed.

After a few minutes, Mr. Harrington sucks in a deep, shuddering breath and says, "C'mon, slugger, you gotta wake up before your mom gets back from terrorizing the doctors, okay? You know how much she worries…” He trails off, looks away, puts his head in his hands.

And Eddie knows he shouldn't be watching this, but he's frozen. If he ever spared a thought for Mr. Harrington, it was just to think of him as some rich asshole Eddie didn't give a shit about. He has no idea if he's a good dad or even a good person but, right now, Eddie feels bad for him. It makes him miss his own dad and then he feels guilty about that, too. Wayne is right there, sleeping by Eddie's bed because he didn't want to leave him alone and he's a better dad than Eddie's father ever was.

Mr. Harrington makes a small frustrated noise and Eddie finally comes back to himself. He goes to turn away, but, as he does, his foot catches on something and the sound is small but it's loud in the hush of the hospital room.

Steve’s dad looks over, brow furrowing.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, “I wanted to… Sorry.” He shakes his head, which makes it spin. Or maybe it’s the whole room that’s spinning. “I’m Eddie,” he says, and he doesn’t know why. “Munson.”

“The boy wanted for murder?”

“No, I— I hope not.” Eddie breathes out and it feels harder than it should be. “That wasn’t… I didn’t…” His legs feel weak and he should just turn around and go back to bed but he keeps talking: “Steve, he— Saved me.” And it’s only part of what happened and it’s more complicated than that but it’s the truth.

“He—” It looks like Steve’s dad doesn’t know what to do with that and then Eddie’s legs give way and the only thing stopping him from falling is Steve’s hospital bed. “Whoa, hey,” Steve’s dad says, pushing himself to his feet, “you should, um…”

“Dad?” Steve’s voice is croaky and confused. His unfocused gaze slowly moves from his dad to where Eddie’s slumped by his bed. “Eddie? You’re—” He coughs, then winces, and his dad forgets all about Eddie.

“Steve,” is all he says, leaning over his son, hand hovering.

And then there’s a hand at Eddie’s elbow, guiding him away. "C'mon, kiddo," Wayne says, "you shouldn't be up," and he gently helps Eddie up onto the bed.

On the other side of the curtain, there are voices—Steve’s dad, a woman that’s probably Steve’s mom, doctors—but it’s quiet on Eddie’s side. Wayne is there, awake now, watching as Eddie finally lets himself fall asleep again. At least he knows Steve’s awake now. And he’s not alone.

[murdleandmarot]

The gang’s all here!! They’re on the case!! And there’s no ghost that they wouldn’t chase!!!!!

@mysticalcats’s Foxglove, @toki-toro’s Chaumet, @emimii’s Clownaire, and my own Bluebelle :)

[metastatiic]

🐾🐾🐾

[rolandkaros]

reason #3299874 why i hate tennis twitter: i hate how idealistic it feels to say “omg we’re ALL sort of right.” like there should be a substantial middle ground here somewhere and instead it always feels like im being weirdly diplomatic. people are spreading misinformation about how drugs and drug tests work. people are ignoring the very real and EXPERT opinions that were used in the process of ruling. people are pretending to be oblivious to why players might find the whole scenario upsetting anyway. people are projecting their paranoia about doping onto a case where it isn’t applicable. people are using completely impermissible evidence to prove why he obviously did or didn’t dope. nick kyrgios is an idiot. and we’re going in circles and have gotten no where and at the end of the day whatever YOU say will not change the fact that he did in fact get two positive doping tests AND the experts supported a conclusion of no fault no negligence. so where does that leave us.

[nymphaerie]

man its 2am and i feel insane in the head so here's something i started a million years ago that i may never finish. idk who knows xoxo

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[stephantom]

I’d need to watch it again to confirm this, but I’m pretty sure that Thomas Becket is the only character who independently initiates touch with Henry?

There are plenty of people whom Henry touches, and it’s almost always possessive or threatening: the villager woman in the first flashback scene, the Saxon peasant girl (and possibly the old man? I think he prods at both of them with his riding crop), Gwendolen (holding her shoulders/neck), the French prostitute (kissing, leaning over, sitting on, slapping her butt), his sons (pushing and kicking them), the bishop (strangling), his barons (clutching onto one, tapping one’s head to indicate his vapidness), and Thomas too—(clasping his shoulders when he realizes Thomas is hurt, holding his hand to put on the chancellor ring).

Interestingly, I don’t think we ever see Henry touch or be touched by his mother or his wife. There’s the moment when he grabs/kicks their needlework, and later on he knocks all the plates off the table, possibly vaguely in their direction—so there are two physical interactions which are violent but still sort of… distant? And still the direction is just Henry to them (in terms of physicality, anyway—verbally, they do initiate conversations/fights with him).

Does anyone touch Henry? There are the monks who whip him in the end, but Henry has ordered them to do it. Likewise, there’s the servant/valet/page who begins to wipe him dry in the bath scene, but again, that’s someone performing a duty. Thomas Becket though, cuts in and takes over the drying, and the dialogue tells us explicitly that he’s not expected to do this, and doesn’t have to (“You’re a nobleman—why do you play at being my valet?”) but Becket seemingly wants to do it, and he knows Henry likes how he does it: enthusiastically, confidently, warmly, and freely (“No one does it like you, Thomas”). He towels Henry’s head, helps Henry put on his boots, and then casually uses Henry’s legs to push himself up to stand.

There’s the scene in Henry’s tent, after the French prostitute has left and the two of them are sitting on the bed: Becket sort of leans in and briefly clasps Henry’s arm where it’s lying in his lap, casually and warmly.

There’s also the getaway horse ride, where Becket is holding onto Henry, arms wrapped around him, and they’re both laughing and smiling. Henry’s shirt actually falls open a little and Becket’s hand winds up on his bare torso.

And then there are the thwarted attempts at touch, after the split: the two scenes where Henry accuses Becket of not loving him. Both times, Becket moves toward Henry and reaches out to touch him, and both times, Henry moves away and tells him to keep his distance.

They’re quick little things, but if they are actually the only instances of anyone touching Henry affectionately (or even of their own volition) that we see over the course of the movie, it does support an impression of Henry as fundamentally isolated—maybe there is truth to his claim that Becket is the only person who’s ever loved him.

What’s tragic is that 1) Henry doesn’t really know how to express love himself (see: Henry expressing nothing but violence and entitlement to everyone else around him, and even to Becket for the most part), and 2) Becket’s love, albeit huge in Henry’s world, is conflicted and unfulfilling—for both of them.

Becket might be the only person who’s dared to reach out to Henry and meet him on something close to a human level, and Henry loves him for it, but why does Becket do it? Part of it may just be an instinct of Becket’s to fulfill a need where he sees one, if he can, and if it benefits him. I think it’s so interesting that Henry seems obsessed with the question of whether Thomas really loves him, when it seems the truth might be that Thomas actually doesn’t know; maybe it’s an unanswerable, even nonsensical question to him. Like, what else could he do? I don’t know. “Insofar as I was capable of love, yes I did [love you].” But the fact that his last words, unwitnessed and private, are, “Poor Henry.” Fuck me up.

Ok, that last paragraph got away from me and now I can’t stop. Tempted to draw comparisons to “Beauty and the Beast” (this is a sad version where no magical transformation happens… unless you take a particular Catholic stance and consider that both of them maybe took real solace and meaning in Thomas being made a saint and that Henry maybe found real absolution through his penance).

I also want to compare all of this to “The Lion in Winter”, where it feels like, rather than a story about one lonely monster in a castle full of people he sees as objects, it’s a whole microcosm of traumatized and power-hungry people, reaching out for power and security and love and stabbing each other in the back, over and over. (Like, of course his mother and wife and kids have complex feelings for him—some of which involve love!) I think that depiction is better and less myopic, more true to life and probably a more accurate portrait of the historical figures involved (even when it comes to Henry and Becket—Becket was of that world too, after all), but I think I’ve rambled enough about all of this, so I’m going to end this post now. I’ll just say that there’s something nevertheless appealing about the boiled-down fairytale melodrama of “no one else ever loved me but you!”