#don't worry i used to say the same shit when i was younger (surprise i was racist in high school and i'm still unlearning shit to this day)

[crobones]

"kendrick's a misogynist too!" okay but like

we know. HE knows. he made a whole ass album addressing his trauma and how it lead to but did not excuse his abusive behaviour. and how he's trying to do better. to BE better.

"drake accused him of beating his wife!"

kendrick himself alluded to allegedly having an abusive relationship with his wife. he doesn't go into details, so it's possible he doesn't mean physically, while drake is accusing it of being physical.

here's the thing. (for me, at least.) drake vastly fucking misinterpreted "Mother I Sober" so much so that he put the worst bars i've ever heard in his most recent diss saying that Kendrick was sexually assaulted as a child. AS. A. DISS. like, Kendrick himself said he wasn't and Drake not only didn't comprehend the lyrics, but also made fun of Kendrick's so called trauma. like. the fuck? it wouldn't be a big leap to assume he misinterpreted the rest of Kendrick's lyrics - willfully or not.

again, on his album Mr. Morale, Kendrick is connecting a lot of his behaviour to - but not excusing it with - his childhood trauma. a generational curse. iirc he also pretty much says he's seeking help (which is encouraged by his wife pretty openly, seeing as she features on several songs in the album)

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

OK SO WHILE I WAS WATCHING SOME TOKIO HOTEL EDITS I GOT THIS IDEA(if it's too much feel free to ignore and I'm sorry if I confused you, I'm not good at explaining😭😭AND I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS GIRLY❤️😘)

Ok so. Modern! Dad! Tom Kaulitz with teen twins(maybe around 15-16 or sum). Like one daughter and one son. Both of them are super sassy and aren't scared of confrontation like they are really confident, they don't care what anyone thinks of them(like they laugh at haters and stuff) yet they take no disrespect especially not towards their dad or the other twin. Tokio Hotels' younger fanbase also literally simps for them and stuff, like they make edits of them and stuff. The twins also really remind everyone of Tom when he was their age. Like the boy, he has the same style his father did just with a little more modern touch to it. And the girl, her style consists a mix of Tom's style too. For exampld: cargo/parachute pants, tube tops, bralette/crop tops, trapper/biker/cadet caps, beanies, platform heels/boots(Demonias), oversized shirts/hoodies, hoop earrings, chains, bead bracelets, long acrylic nails, etc. . Like whenever anyone sees the twins, you know their outfits are never boring/dry. Like the girl is an absolute maneater and the boy is a womanizer(but they have admirers of all genders). Like both twins especially the girl really love Heidi because let's just say their bio mom went to get milk right after they were born. And like how would the relationship with their uncles(Bill, Georg and Gustav) be?

I know this is a hell lot so I won't be surprised if you just ignore it LMAO💀💀

(I love this idea sm hold up I'm finna add it to my Dr but Bill lmao. And so worries, I did a lot to match this so I hope you enjoy!)

Kaulitz Twins Gen #2

The media went crazy when you guys were born

Or being brought into the world

If you do the math, Tom was only seventeen and even he was freaking out

Especially with your mother and media and his career

But, with help from the band, he actually managed to become a good dad

Tried to help your mother stay but she just walked out

He never really looked for her, thinking if she could leave two beautiful kids like you guys she didn't deserve to even be looked for

Or if she ever wanted anything from Tom after she left he told her to fuck off

He didn't think he would be a good dad

Until he finally held you guys in the hospital room

Then he finally realized maybe, he would be a good dad

And he promised to never fuck it up

And he didn't!

Bill was happy to meet you guys, Georg was happy for Tom and sorta excited for two kids runnings around the stage while Gustav was a bit nervous but happy nonetheless

Bill always took you guys out and dressed you up when you guys were kids

No matter your gender

Georg let you guys rain hell, eat candy, stay up, even bought you guys a puppy to spite Tom

Gustav was a more relaxed uncle who let you guys do what you want but be careful while doing it

As you guys grew older you grew up in the media eye

Especially because of who your family was and you needed to be brought on tour with them

Tom tried to control it but paparazzi would literally run after you guys when the band would try and shield you guys from them

Tom felt helpless in those situations and did his best to keep you guys safe

You were confused when you saw your dad upset and yelling at the random people with cameras and when you guys would go home he would apologize

You didn't know why he did but you knew they just made your dad upset

And that made you and your twin upset, very much

Whenever paparazzi would come around you guys would yell at them

Shit like "No pictures!" Or "go away!" "Leave us alone!" "Stop following us, weirdos!"

Your dad's and uncles taught you guys to speak your minds but couldn't help but be surprised when you guys yelled at paparazzi

When you were little you and your twin even threw shit at them for following you guys

You were like six mind you

Better paparazzi, not such prying and rude ones, actually found it funny and when you guys were photographed like that it went sorta media crazy

You guys were known as the second generation of Kaulitz Twins sort

You guys were very sassy, spoke your mind and didn't care what people thought of you guys even from a young age

If expressed any interest in media, like modeling, singing and your twin did too Tom would let you guys

He would watch over of course but you guys did modeling, photoshoots, even went into interviews when you guys were young

For being teenagers you guys had quite the fanbase

You guys aren't scared of confrontation at all

Like one time someone was giving your Uncle Bill a hard time at a signing and wouldn't leave him alone

You and your twin went over, pushed them away and started yelling at them to back up or you would have to put them on their ass

Safe to say they left

Bill was surprised but your dad was very much proud

He didn't raise you guys to take bullshit

Tom admires that you guys could be so confident even at a young age

You guys genuinely do not care about being talked about or what people think about you guys

You guys have so much fun making fun of haters and laughing at them

Especially ones that try and "confront" you guys in public

You even told one "Get the fuck out my face." Laughing so hard your twin had to hold you up as Tom lead you guys away

Tom likes that you guys don't any bullshit from anyone

Especially when you guys defend him and your twin

You guys don't stand for hate and God help anyone who tries you guys

You have fought a few people when it got out of hand

They were talking shit so I say it was justified

You and your twin poke fun at how the younger fans already are simping for you guys

You are sorta like your dad when he was young in that tense

Like you guys play with hearts, flirt, tease and shit like that

You guys see edits and posts about you guys and how people find you guys attractive

You guys are constantly commenting on the edits and shit like that or are so smug about it

You guys like the attention you guys get so much

You guys like the reactions you get from fans when they see you guys saw their edits or posts and are giving them attention

You guys are too much like your father

So much so you remind everyone who your dad is everyday by simply existing

Your brother has a few collections of your dad's old clothes back then and wears them a lot

Like his shirts, hats, pants and bands that Tom wore he has a lot of them, the ones that weren't donated

Your brothers style is almost exactly like your dad's and everyone sees it

Except it has a more modern touch and a few more stuff your brother incorporated

Your style was the most surprising to everyone but not at the same time

Your style was definitely influenced by Bill when he dressed you up when you were younger

Your style everytime you wear something makes a statement and is always photographed or edited by fans

Doesn't help you look fucking good in everything you wear

Some stuff is sorta revealing and short so obviously Tom being that dad he is says stuff like

"That's too short. You look good, I know, hon, but what if you get cold?"

Get Heidi to talk to him, and plus your his little girl so he lets you rain hell if you wanted too

Bill absolutely loves your style and helps you pick out what to wear

Is holding your hand above your head, spinning you to get a full look of the outfit and applauding y'all's work

None of your family stands for any shaming of your outfits though

Especially when people say you're asking for attention or are dressed too skimpy and shit like that

Your response is always the same, that you want the attention and to fuck off

But when you're not wearing stuff like that you also wear some of your dad's old clothes or stuff that fit his style back then

Especially his shirts and his old pants

Everyone knows when you step outside your outfits are gonna be fucking good

Always making a statement and never leaving in a "basic" outfit

Tips you find from uncle Bill that are always helpful

You guys have a lot of fans, all genders, who simp for you guys and some even throw themselves at you guys

Let's just say you guys take up some offers

But you guys are described as two twins who is a maneater and a womanizer

You guys are exactly like your father in that sense when he was your age

He tries to get you guys not to like players or absolute dick like he was when he was your age

He just wants you guys to be safe and not play around with people's hearts

But bring up old interviews and he'll leave you guys to your own devices

You guys flirt, tease, kiss and sometimes more with fans but he's still your dad so he'll object

He'll take you guys away when he sees that so be careful not to do it flat out in front of your dad

Be sneaky, whisper and sneak off

You both really love Heidi

She's your mom

Not step mom or anything but your mom as she took you guys in and raised you as her own kids when she didn't need too

You and your brother are a mama's boy, mama's girl, daddy's girl and daddy's boy

You both love them equally no matter what

You both really loved by both your parents and your siblings

You helped your dad propose to Heidi and we're so excited when they got married

You two were so happy to see your parents happy and officially have siblings

You guys are little schemers with Heidi's kids

Heidi helps you guys with anything and no matter what it could be

Heartbreak, outfits, crushes, stress, happiness, anything and she is there

Even if your mom tried to come back in your life Tom and Heidi would leave it up to you guys

But when you say no it's a weight off their shoulders

You call Heidi mom and so does your brother

The first time you did Heidi froze for a moment but couldn't help but pecker kisses all over your guys' faces and hug you guys

You're her kids and she wouldn't have it any other way

You guys are very famous around the world and it can be very stressful at times

But with your uncle's, dad, mom and your twin, you wouldn't change it for anything

[munson-blurbs]

Chapter 2: Don't Know What You've Got Till it's Gone

Collaboration with the Dustin to my Suzie, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie are getting closer, and his friends can't help but notice something between you two. But when you receive devastating news, the pressure of being his upbeat, optimistic Sunshine becomes too much to handle.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, description of Eddie's scars, controlled use of pain medication, angst

WC: 6.6k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“Yeah, well, next time I tell you not to be a hero, you’d better listen to me.” A man’s voice stirs you from your sleep. You gently roll over onto your side and see fuzzy shadows behind the curtain that separates you and Eddie. 

“Hold on, Harrington,” Eddie pushes himself up slightly, an edge to his voice. “What do you mean by next time?”

“He’s still out there,” a younger voice pipes up. “We wounded him, but—” He stops abruptly, turning his stocky frame towards the curtain. “Hey, can your roommate hear us?”

“She can!” you chirp, and utterances of shit and shut up fill the room. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell anyone about your nerdy D&D secrets.” Eddie had spent the better part of the last few days explaining the ins and outs of the game, taking far too much pride in his Dungeon Master status for a man pushing 20. 

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Eddie calls out. “You decent? Want you to meet my friends.” 

“Sorry, did we wake you?” A girl asks, but your view of her is obstructed by the curtain. “We have a tendency to be a little…”

“Loud?” The older of the guys offers. “Obnoxious? Grating?”

The boy shrugs. “That’s just the way we roll, man.”

“What do you mean ‘we?’” The first guy retorts.

“I’m all good, Eddie,” you say. Now that you’ve given the all clear, the older boy tugs back the curtain. You recognize him as Steve Harrington, who graduated with you last year. 

“Steve,” he says, sticking out his hand for you to shake. “And, FYI, I do not play Dungeons & Dragons.”

You can’t help but let out a snort of laughter as you shake his hand and introduce yourself. “A shame. Eddie makes it seem like such fun.” At your sarcastic tone, Eddie flips you off, but you ignore him and continue. “We, uh, actually graduated together.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, eyebrows shooting up so high they almost blend into his perfectly coiffed hair. “Huh. You think I’d remember that.” 

“I mean, it’s understandable you’d forget,” you say with a shrug. “You had just lost the last basketball game of the season.”

“Ouch,” Steve says, holding a hand over his heart. “But that doesn’t excuse the four years we were in the same class.”

Wincing, you give Steve another shrug. “More like seven. We went to middle school together, too.”

“Well, shit,” Steve says, running a hand over his face. “Yeah, I was a douchebag.”

“Was?” a feminine voice chimes in. Steve rolls his eyes and turns to the side to reveal the younger guy and a girl your age that are sitting next to Eddie’s bed.

“Robin, right?” you ask. She perks up in her seat, seeming pleasantly surprised that you know her name. 

“Yeah,” she says.

“You’re in band, right? I’m friends with Vickie, and I know she’s mentioned you a few times,” you explain.

“R-Really?” Robin asks, eyes widening.

“Mhmm,” you hum in confirmation, watching an unmistakable grin grow from cheek to cheek. You’ll have to follow up on that another time if you have a moment alone with her. “And you are…?” you start, turning towards the curly haired boy hoisting himself up on crutches, braces adorning his teeth. 

“Dustin Henderson,” he affirms. “Artificer: Master Inventor and future Hawkins High valedictorian.” You shake his hand, giggling as the three older friends roll their eyes in unison at his introduction. 

“Don’t forget ladies’ man,” Robin taunts, and Dustin hoists up two middle fingers in response, fumbling to keep the crutches secured under his arms. 

“Sunshine here is a ballet dancer,” Eddie says, trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of love. You watch as Steve and Robin exchange an amused glance, with the former mouthing Sunshine and the latter just shrugging. “She does, um, pointe?” He looks at you hopefully. 

You nod. “Yup! I’ll be right back at it as soon as this bad boy heals up.” You gently pat your leg, grimacing as even the lightest touch sends sharp pains down to your toes. 

You talk with the group for a few more minutes, swapping gossip about people from your graduating class, until Mandy knocks on the door. “It’s time for your appointment with the surgeon,” she says politely. 

“Surgeon?” Eddie asks, brows crinkling in confusion. 

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer, leaning on the nurse as you maneuver into the wheelchair. “Just, um, protocol with this kind of injury. Make sure everything’s good and all that.” He seems to buy this answer, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief. “It was nice talking with you all!” 

Once you’re out of the room, Dustin turns to Eddie. “So,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Sunshine?”

“Shut up, Henderson,” Eddie grumbles, throwing a pillow at the boy. 

“Yeah, be nice to him,” Robin teases. “That nurse just took his sunshine away!”

“So, are you involved with this sunshine?” Steve asks, an amused expression written all across his face.

“No, not like that,” Eddie says, suddenly finding the hem of his scratchy blanket fascinating. “Just friends.” 

“You guys get along well,” Robin says, more statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees.

“And she’s beautiful, yeah?” Robin asks, raising her eyebrows at Eddie.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” she asks.

Eddie groans, dropping his head back against his pillow. Never mind the fact that Steve “ladies man” Harrington–an actual ladies’ man, not like Henderson–is in the room, but Eddie’s never been particularly comfortable talking about his experience—or rather lack thereof—with girls. There’s also the fact that he was literally attacked by bats from an alternate dimension, barely escaping hell with his life intact. And you’re so bright and sunny and the total opposite of what Eddie brings to the table. 

“It’s just that she… I mean, I… you see, we—.”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Munson. Stop playing games. We all see the spark,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly. 

“There’s a spark?” Eddie asks quietly, lifting his head from the pillow and infinitesimal amount. 

“I knew it!” Dustin exclaims loudly, earning an angry shush from someone passing through the hallway. “Look at the stupid grin on his face! Eddie wuvs his Sunshine!” He leans over to pinch Eddie’s cheek, but gets his hand slapped away. 

“I don’t love her!” Eddie hisses. “Now, if you idiots could stop bothering me about this, and we can talk about anything else.”

“Okay, we’ll stop,” Robin agrees, but the mischievous smirk on her face says otherwise, “when you look me in the eyes and can tell me you don’t have feelings for her.”

Eddie lays back down and pulls the covers up over his head. “Goodnight and goodbye,” he mutters, despite the fact that it’s only 10 AM.

Steve yanks the covers back down, laughing when he sees his new friend scowling. “Calm down, man,” he says, sitting down on the starchy blanket, careful not to bump into Eddie. “We’re just messing with you. We’ll behave now.” He shoots Dustin and Robin a warning look, and the two grumble their apologies.

“‘S fine,” Eddie mumbles. “I’m tired anyway, so…” He lets his gaze fall to the doorway. 

“Yeah, of course,” Robin says with a small smile. “We’ll visit soon.”

“Get well soon, buddy,” Dustin lowers his voice as quietly as he can—which isn’t saying much, given his normal volume. “The kids of the future are counting on more of your sadistic campaigns.”

As Eddie slips into a medicated slumber, he makes a silent prayer for sweet dreams. Your image appears in his mind, and he can’t deny the warmth it brings him. 

Shit, he thinks. Those morons were right. I have a thing for Sunshine. He hopes that he’ll dream of you now that he’s admitted his crush. 

No such luck. 

The skies are red and gray, strange bursts of some sort of lightning fill the air. Weird shrill squeals fill the dead air. Eddie’s body is full of pain, searing and bleeding wounds making it difficult to breathe. Quick gasps leave his lips, his hands clutching at the ripped shreds of his shirt.

“Eddie! Shit!” Dustin’s voice rings around Eddie. The shorter boy is somewhere in the distance, not too far. “Steve! SOS! SOS!”

Soon, two pairs of hands are on Eddie’s body, trying to help, but only making the pain worse. He tries to steal himself against it, but it’s no use. The tears come, hot and thick as they build up in his eyes. The fear, the desperation, the pain. It’s all too much. 

“Eddie?” 

It’s not Steve or Dustin’s voice that Eddie hears above it all. It’s yours. But what are you doing in this God awful place? It’s the very last place that Eddie wants you.

“Eddie!” 

The darkness in the sky fades, a subtle light beginning to shine through. Then, the next thing he knows, Eddie is blinking his eyes open in the bright hospital room, his face sticky with the trail of tears. He rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Once his vision is cleared, he sees you being wheeled into the room in the wheelchair you were brought out in. Your face is pinched in concern and it takes Eddie a moment to realize you’re concerned for him.

“Can you wheel me over to Eddie’s bed instead? Thanks,” you say to the transporter, who does as you request. Eddie scoots over and pulls down his blankets, silently offering you the space next to him. Biting your lip, you look around as if you’re debating, before pushing yourself up onto your good leg and holding out your arms for balance. Immediately, Eddie reaches over and takes your hand so you can use him to steady yourself. Shooting him a grateful smile, you’re able to situate yourself on the edge of his bed.

The transporter looks like he doesn’t know if he should be allowing this or not, so he quickly puts his head down and leaves the room with the wheelchair. Eddie helps you get situated next to him before he pulls the blankets up over both of you. 

“Another bad dream?” you ask once you’re comfortable.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. 

“Was it as bad as the first time?”

“At first. But I heard you calling me a lot earlier this time. Got all nice and light again before I opened my eyes. How’d it go with the surgeon?” 

“Oh,” you say, averting your eyes. “Nothing special. Just going over X-rays and tests and stuff, ya know?” You clear your throat, anxious to have the subject changed. “You know when you’re getting out of here?”

“Not yet,” Eddie says, sinking back against his pillows.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get out?” you ask.

“Honestly? Get a fucking cheeseburger. This hospital food is shit. I mean, come on. What a man gotta do to get something better than gray mashed potatoes and lime Jell-O?”

“Okay,” you say with a giggle. “After you get some good food, what are you gonna do?”

“I dunno,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

“Oh, come on,” you say. “What’s Eddie Munson’s big dream? Be a big rock star? World tours? Opening for Ozzy? No—Ozzy opening for you.”

Eddie scoffs, gently nudging your shoulder with his. “Before all…this…happened, I was thinking about moving to Indianapolis after graduation. Get involved in the music scene there.”

“Indianapolis?” You wrinkle your nose. “That’s honestly super boring. You survived an earthquake and you’re only gonna go to the state capital?”

“Fine,” he whines exaggeratedly, smiling as he does it. “How about…Australia? I can be, like, a kangaroo farmer.”

“Is that even a thing?”

“It is now.” His loose, tangled curls brush up against the part of your shoulder left exposed by the pale blue hospital gown. “What about you? New York City? Maybe dance on Broadway, or be one of those…Christmas, kicking girls?”

You snort out a laugh. “A Rockette?”

“Yeah.”

“Eh,” you shrug, pushing away the thoughts of the news you’d just received from the surgeon. “New York’s nice to visit, but I need someplace warm. I’m thinking of going to California.”

“Just don’t forget about me when you’re a big Hollywood star,” Eddie teases, though there’s a hint of seriousness in his voice. “And if the movie you’re dancing in needs a band, you know who to recommend.”

“Of course. But do you really think I could get Tears for Fears to play?” His shove is a bit harder this time, making both of you groan as you laugh. “Kidding, kidding. You know Corroded Coffin will be at the top of my list. If you’re not too busy with your own gigs.”

Never too busy for my Sunshine, Eddie nearly blurts out, but he says instead, “will do.” He’s silent for a bit before asking, “Why didn’t you go to California?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you going to college in Indiana and not California?” Eddie tries again. “I mean, you said it yourself: the entertainment scene is much better there than here.” He scrunches up his nose. “Actually, why are you even in college?”

You bark out a laugh at the bluntness of his question. “Um, because that’s what people do after high school?”

“You don’t have to, though,” he quips. “Think about it, Sunshine. College will always be there, but if you wanna pursue dance, you’ve gotta do it while you’re young and, uh, limber.” His cheeks blush a delicious shade of pink. 

“Yeah, well.” The truth comes tumbling out before you can stop it. “My parents didn’t think it was a good idea. Just dancing. They wanted me to go to get my degree; build a ‘solid foundation’ or whatever.” You trace invisible spirals into the blanket as you speak. “My dad told me that he could never tell his friends that I danced for a living, because they would, and I quote, ‘think that his daughter was a stripper with daddy issues.’”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “First of all, stripping is a noble profession, and I do not approve of any stripper slander in my home.”

“We’re not in your home,” you point out. 

“I do not approve of any stripper slander in my hospital room,” he amends, flicking your forehead with his thumb and middle finger. “And, second, do not tell me that you made a decision about your future based on the opinions of your dad’s old-ass friends.” He groans when you remain quiet. “Seriously?”

“I just didn’t want to upset them,” you mumble. “The only reason they allowed me to study dance is because I’m also majoring in education. I could be a dance teacher.”

“Do you wanna be a dance teacher?”

“Someday,” you admit. “I taught some classes at my studio for the little kids, and I really liked it.” You gnaw at your lower lip. 

“But?” Eddie presses, letting his thumb graze against yours. 

“But it’s not what I want to do now,” you relent. “Right now, I want to go on auditions and maybe get cast in a play or a cheesy music video or a goddamn commercial and…and dance.”

Eddie gives your hand a quick squeeze before pulling back, not wanting to cross a boundary when you’re so vulnerable. “Then you’re gonna dance,” he murmurs. “We’ll get outta here and move to Cali, and you’re gonna dance.”

A month ago, the prospect of dropping out of school to dance professionally would have you downright terrified. Terrified of failure, of your parents’ inevitable disappointment, of finding out you’re not good enough. But now it only fills you with regret, because that dream became impossible with just the shifting of some rogue tectonic plates. 

“Okay,” you say softly, once again wearing your hopeful façade. “Sounds like a plan.” A plan you’ll both easily forget once you’re back out in the real world, faced with the problems you’ve been shielded from within the hospital walls. 

The two of you lay there talking about your futures until sleep overtakes you both. Eddie’s the first to drift off; you stay awake for a bit, consumed by echoes of today’s appointment with Dr. Sanoj. What was supposed to be a brief meeting about scheduling your surgery turned into something much more devastating. You rest your head on Eddie’s chest, only allowing yourself to unravel when you hear his soft snores. The combination of the energy expended by crying and the drowsiness from your meds allows you to sleep, still hiccuping from tears as you fall into a dreamless slumber. 

Neither of you hear the soft click of crutches as Dustin hobbles back into the room. “Forgot my—son of a bitch, I knew it!” he whispers, slinging his left-behind jacket over his shoulder. “Steve and Robin are gonna lose their shit!”

The next morning, Mandy arrives with breakfast and medication. In front of each of you, she places a plate of runny scrambled eggs, fruit that is described as “fresh” but most certainly is not, and a small carton of orange juice. It’s strangely domestic, and you can’t help but imagine you and Eddie eating together in your shared home. You’re making pancakes or waffles or frittatas—anything better than the food in front of you. Eddie’s frying up bacon, wearing an apron that says Kiss the Chef, and you do, over and over and—

The rattle of your pill cup snaps you from your fantasy, and you dutifully swallow the pastel tablets with a swig of juice. 

Eddie grins when Mandy gives him his meds. “Hello, beautiful,” he croons, making grabby motions with his calloused hands. 

“Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Munson; no more painkillers in this batch,” Mandy says, laughing at his pout despite herself. “Dr. Franklin wants to speak with you; he’ll be making his rounds in a few minutes.”

“Oooh, Eddie’s in trooouble!” you sing-song, flashing a grin at him. 

Rolling his eyes at you, Eddie downs his pills and leans back against his pillow. “Would be used to it. Was in Higgin’s office enough.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you say with a sigh. “Did you go down to the cafeteria while I was asleep and make some big dramatic speech on one of the tables? At least tell me that someone videotaped it for me.”

“You’re hilarious,” he says, tossing his empty paper cup at you. The giggle you let out has his stomach feeling tingly, and he’s sure it’s not from the medications. 

There’s a knock on the open door to your room and an older man steps inside, a clipboard tucked under his arm. “Hey, Eddie. How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks, doc,” Eddie answers. “What’s the word?”

“Well, glad to say everything looks good. All lab results are normal and you’re healing up nicely. Of course, some injuries still have a ways to go, but there’s no reason you can’t be home for that.”

Eddie’s immediately thrilled. Finally, being able to get out of the hospital where he’s been poked and prodded and it’s impossible to get a good night’s sleep because of all the beeping equipment and nurses constantly checking on you. But as soon as the excitement came, it went. Because leaving the hospital also meant not spending most of the hours in the day by your side. No waking up to your laughter as he tells shitty jokes over your shitty breakfasts. No more saying, “I told you so” when Shelby confesses to the other twin, “I’m still in love with you” on your daily soap opera binges. No more constant sunshine.

“That’s great,” Eddie tells the doctor, his heart not behind the words. “When am I sprung?”

“Should be good to go tomorrow morning. I’m just gonna head back to my office, dot the i’s, cross the t’s, put my name on the X. You know, all that official mumbo jumbo. I’ll have Mandy get everything together. Your prescriptions, your discharge papers, and whatever else you’ll need.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie says, nails scratching at the blanket in his lap. 

“Any questions for me?” The doctor asks. When Eddie shakes his head, the doctor gives him a smile and pats Eddie’s leg. 

“Oh, I have one,” you say, raising your hand from where you’re tucked up in bed. “When is he cleared to shower? It’s like sharing a room with a donkey.”

The doctor lets out a small chuckle. “Eddie, you are officially cleared to take a shower. If you think of any questions, just tell Mandy. She’ll make sure I get the message.”

“Will do. Thanks.” Eddie nods his head at the man as he steps out of the room. Eddie turns his head to see you grinning at him. While it’s a beautiful sight, it now gives him a melancholy feeling. 

“You’re being freed!” you call. “You can go get that cheeseburger tomorrow!”

“Should I sneak one into you?” Eddie asks, his smirk not packing its usual punch. 

“Oh, please do,” you say. “God, I can practically taste it.”

“Or smell it? Like, how apparently you’re smelling me?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. Part of him is a little embarrassed because the two of you were sitting so close together just last night. 

“You’re not that bad,” you tell him. “I probably smell vile.”

Not a chance, Eddie thinks. “All right, well, I guess I’ll go take a shower then.” He stands up from the bed and over to the small pile of clothes Wayne had brought him the other day. Just some old t-shirts and comfortable pajama pants to sleep in, but it was still nice to have a touch of home. 

Once Eddie has closed the bathroom door behind him, Mandy comes in to check your vitals. 

“Heard the good news,” she says as she reads the numbers of your blood pressure. “Gonna be weird having a room to yourself? You guys have been inseparable.”

Your face heats at her words and you look down at your lap as she scribbles something into your chart. “S’fine,” you say with a shrug. Mandy looks down at you, a knowing smile on her lips. 

“Uh huh,” she says as she clicks her pen. “Well, all your numbers are good. They stay this way, you’ll be headed to the operating room before you know it. Need anything?”

“No,” you say, downcast eyes on your blanket. 

A bang from the en suite bathroom has both you and Mandy craning your heads in that direction.

“I’m good!” Eddie shouts. “Just dropped the shampoo!”

It makes you chuckle and Mandy shakes her head, fondly. You think she’s going to miss him, too. 

“I’ll see you soon, I’m sure,” you say to Mandy as she heads out the door. Sighing to yourself, you cuddle up in your blankets and decide to have a five minute pity party. Not only are you facing multiple surgeries over the foreseeable future, but Eddie won’t be here by your side to keep your spirits up. Sure, maybe he calls you his sunshine, but you’re positive he isn’t aware of how much he brightens your days too. The water turns off in the bathroom and you quickly wipe your hands over your cheeks, trying to catch any pesky tears that may have slipped free. 

The curtain in the middle of the room is opened—it’s only ever closed anymore if a doctor or nurse needs it to be for some reason. It allows you to see the bathroom door open, but before you see him, you can hear Eddie mumbling to himself.

“Man knows how to do laundry. What the hell is this? A fucking toddler shirt?” When you finally see him, your breath is caught in your chest—for two reasons. One, the teenage girl in you can’t help but respond this way to seeing the guy you have a crush on without his shirt. Two, you’d never really heard the whole story of why Eddie had to come to the hospital, and seeing the puckered and pulled flesh of his chest makes your heart ache. There’s bruising leaving purple and brown spots on top of red and pink gashes that are healing. It looks painful and searing against his otherwise pale white skin. 

You know better than to stare. Obviously he’d assume you’re just staring at the scars, not admiring the small but sculpted muscles beneath them. It takes a Herculean effort to pull your gaze from his body and look down in your lap.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles as he stomps over to his pile of clothes. He rummages through them until he finds another shirt. He’s quick in slipping it on, then turns towards your bed. Taking the few steps over in your direction, he sits down on the bottom corner of your bed. When you look up, there’s half a smile on his face as he plays with a small white cloth in his hands. “Believe it or not, this used to be a shirt that fit me.” He holds the cloth up and you see it’s a Guns N’ Roses shirt that’s been shrunk until only a child could fit into it. “My uncle must’ve shrunk it. Guess that’s payback for all the times I turned his white shirts pink because I left a pair of red boxers in the washer.”

“Led Zeppelin is better anyway,” you say, gesturing to the shirt he’s currently wearing. 

“So, uh,” Eddie says, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with the too-small tee. “You saw the scars, huh?”

“I did,” you say in a quiet voice. His cheeks turn red and it breaks your heart. “No, please don’t be embarrassed, Eddie. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Shutting it again, Eddie shakes his head. “I, um… they just. They’re—what I mean…”

“Eddie, take a breath. It’s okay.” You go to reach for his hand, but you can’t bend enough due to your injured leg. Eddie shifts so he’s facing you and leans the rest of the way so you can take his hand. “There’s no scar you could have that would make me think any less of you. Plus, you haven’t seen my leg. It looks pretty gnarly.”

“Gnarly?” Eddie asks, looking up at you underneath his eyelashes, the tiniest smile on his lips. 

“Yeah, I’m preparing for that California life,” you tease him. “Gotta fit in with the surfer dudes.”

Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “As soon as you get the OK, I’m booking our tickets.” He shoves the pillow out of the way and sits on top of the blanket. “I can’t afford first-class, so coach will have to do.”

“Lucky for you, I’m not a diva—yet,” you add, excited to play along with the fantasy game he has going on. “I can handle a few hours with the common folk.”

“And we thank you for gracing us with your presence.” Eddie’s eyes flit back to your leg. “When do you think you’ll be good to go?”

Dr. Sanoj told you that between surgeries and recovery, it’ll be at least six weeks, but you bite back that information. “Any day now,” you lie. “Just waiting on those discharge papers. But you know how that can be, with all the sign offs. Everyone’s gotta cross their t’s and dot their i’s.” Good God, shut up, you think. 

“Cool,” Eddie nods. He looks deep in thought, tongue poking out in concentration. “Yeah, all right. I can make it work.”

You smile, rolling your eyes playfully at his commitment to the bit. Your pain meds start to kick in, and you drift off into a hazy sleep. 

While you’re passed out, there’s a soft knock on the door. 

“Oh, she’s asleep,” Eddie hears a woman’s voice softly murmur. There’s a slight creak as she sits in the chair next to your bed. “My sweet girl. Mom’s here.”

Your mom. Eddie uses his elbows to push himself up, pulling the curtain back a few inches. 

“Um, hi,” he says, not realizing how nervous he is until he actually starts talking. “Are you Sunshine’s mom?”

The woman’s brow crinkles. “Sunshine?”

Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink. “Yeah, I, uh, I call her Sunshine,” he stammers, nodding in your direction. 

“Then, yes, I’m Sunshine’s mom.”

“She, um, she’s—I call her Sunshine because she brightens up my day. Probably the only person in this building who doesn’t hate my guts, let alone like me.” He wants to stop talking, but he can’t. “I have these nightmares, y’know? From the, uh, earthquake thing. And she always pulls me outta them. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I go home tomorrow.”

Your mom gives Eddie a sympathetic smile, gently stroking your hand, minding the needle poking into it. “Well, she’s always telling me how much you make her laugh. Lord knows she could use some happiness in her life.” She sighs. “I just hope her new roommate is as kind as you.”

“At least she’s getting outta here soon,” Eddie offers, “so even if she has a shi—bad roommate, it won’t be for long.”

“Six weeks isn’t exactly ‘soon,’” your mom says. Her gaze doesn’t leave your face, so peaceful in your sleep. 

“Wait, six weeks?” Eddie nearly chokes on his own tongue in surprise. “No, she told me that the doctor should clear her in the next coupla days.”

Your mom shakes her head. “She’s got three surgeries to fix that broken femur, plus recovery time. The reason it’s only six weeks is because she’s young and healthy.”

Eddie feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. Why would you lie to him? Get him pumped up about the prospect of moving to California, living out your dreams together, for it to all be bullshit?

Tears prick at his eyes. Maybe this was all just a joke, a stupid prank on your part. Make the Freak think that someone actually cared about him, laughing behind his back the whole time. 

Maybe it’s best that he’s leaving tomorrow. Then he won’t have to listen to you drag him along for your own sick entertainment. 

You wake up around dinnertime, stretching your limbs as much as your limited mobility allows. It’s a far cry from your usual limber exercises, but it’s enough to get the blood flowing through your body. 

An episode of Wheel of Fortune plays from the TV in the corner, but it’s blocked by the curtain. Eddie probably closed it while I slept, you think. That’s pretty much the only time you two keep the room divided; every now and then, you forget and wake up to the sight of Eddie Munson sleeping next to you. 

“Eds? You awake?”

“Yup,” is his terse reply, with no enthusiasm behind it. 

You open the curtain with a grin. “Are you grumpy because your novelas aren’t on?”

“Nope.” He keeps his arms crossed over his chest, left ankle draped over his right. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, frowning. “Did something happen while I was sleeping?”

“Yeah, actually.” Eddie finally allows his gaze to meet yours. His usual friendly doe eyes are clouded with anger. “Your mom stopped by.”

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Did she say something that upset you? I told her that all the murderer stuff wasn’t true, and she believed me—believed you.”

“Actually, we talked a bit about you.” The acid in his tone is enough to burn.

“What about me?” you ask, only becoming further confused by this conversation. 

Eddie huffs out a humorless chuckle and licks his tongue across his teeth. “Really thought you had me, didn’t you? Think you could pretend to be all buddy buddy with me just to mess with me? Get in my head?”

“What? Who’s in your head?” Part of you wonders if this is all some medicine-induced stress dream. “Eddie.” You push yourself up as best you can, leg aching and body suffering from general soreness from being cramped in the bed for so long. “What are you talking about? What did my mom say to you?”

This time when his eyes cut to you, there’s more than anger there. There’s fury, pain. The sight makes your heart ache, and the fact that this look is directed at you is making your head spin. 

“Just a couple of days, huh?” Eddie pushes himself to the edge of his bed so his legs hang off the side. His glare burns your skin and you feel yourself wanting to shrink down and out of sight. “That’s how long til the doctor will clear ya?”

Part of the puzzle of why Eddie was mad was starting to kick into place. Shit, you think. Mom must’ve said something about the surgeries. 

“Eddie, I—.”

“Lied? Yeah, you did. But what’s that matter when you’re lying to The Freak?”

Guilt gives way to anger in your gut as he throws this accusation at you. Not once, whether in high school with him or after, did you think of Eddie as a freak. You’ve never agreed with those who called him names and treated him as lesser than. 

“I didn’t lie to you because I think you're a freak, Eddie.” It comes out strangled between all the emotions vying to be expressed through your voice. 

“You sure about that?” Eddie narrows his eyes at you, and it’s hard to see a trace of the laughing and smiling Eddie you’ve become so close with. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” you grit out. “I lied becau—.”

“Well, what possible other motive could there have been?” Eddie questions. His hands are gripping the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning almost as white as the linens. 

“If you would just listen to me!”

“So you can lie some more?” Eddie scoffs and shakes his head. “Well, screw California.”

Confusion is suddenly back in your mixture of emotions. California? Why bring up that joke now? Unless…

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. “You were actually serious about going to California?”

“What?” he practically barks out. “You weren’t?”

“Eddie, I thought that was a joke,” you say with a disbelieving laugh. “Some made up fantasy to get us through spending all our time in these four plain-as-fuck walls.”

“Of course you weren’t really going to do that with me,” Eddie says, a sneer curling his lip. 

“Because I didn’t know it was real!” you try to explain.

Eddie throws up his arms, grimacing as it tugs on his stitches. “Why wouldn’t it be real? Is me having a future that unbelievable?”

“What the hell are you on?” you hiss. “Eddie, you need to finish high school. And I need to get my bachelor’s degree. We can’t just be fucking off to California like it’s no big deal!”

Eddie bites his thumbnail before responding. “Let me get this straight. We narrowly escape death during this…earthquake…and you wanna just go back to our normal lives? Like we weren’t given a second chance to live?” He’s pacing around the room now. “My neighbor? Max Mayfield? Harrington told me that she’s blind now. She’s fucking blind and in a full body cast!”

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, but he continues frantically walking back and forth without acknowledging you. 

“And Jason Carver. Jason fucking Carver! I hated that son of a bitch, and now he’s dead. All those times he was a piece of shit to me and I wished something would happen to him, and now it did.”

“That’s not your fault,” you try. “You didn’t cause the earthquake.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s all I thought about: death and sadness. And then I met you.” His eyes are shiny with tears. “Someone who liked spending time with me, who believed in me, who had these crazy dreams just like I did. A…a friend.” He wipes at his face clumsily, embarrassed to be crying. “But you’re just like the rest of them, huh?”

“That’s not fair—”

“Y’know what’s real fuckin’ funny?” Eddie smacks his hand on his bedside table. “The other day, Harrington said that we—you and I—had some kinda ‘spark’ between us.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Guess he’s just as full of shit as you are, Sunshine.” When he says the nickname now, it’s full of venom; there’s no trace of the sweet, goofy guy you’ve gotten to know. 

“Eddie, if you would just let me—” But yet again, Eddie doesn’t let you attempt to explain any of the situation. The fact that a part of you somewhere deep inside is fluttery because Steve saw a spark between you and Eddie is something you have to put away to examine at a better time. 

“Good luck with your surgery,” Eddie says. “Too bad the doctors can’t cure bitch.”

It feels like a punch to the gut, the air being knocked out of you. Your mouth opens and your lips move, but no sound comes out. There’s a crack in your heart, but it quickly feels like it’s been soldered closed with the anger bubbling up inside of you. Your lungs reinflate, the blood pumps heavily through your veins, and your fists clench where they rest in your lap. The urge to lash out is strong. And at this moment, you’re so very weak.

“You know what, Eddie? Fuck you. And hey, good luck getting to California with those murder charges on your record.” The moment the words tumble out of your mouth you wish you could take them back. Eddie stepped over the line, but you ran right past him. “Shit, I didn’t—.”

Suddenly you’re not looking at Eddie anymore. He’s pulled the curtain closed, the last glimpse you get of him is a raging fury in his eyes. And you can hardly blame him. The only thing that stares back at you is the gauzy white curtain still swaying from the forceful yank. 

“Eddie…” The television volume gets turned up to an ungodly volume, making you cover your ears and impossible to have a conversation over. 

You spend the rest of the night with your ear pressed to the pillow in an attempt to drown out the baseball game he’s watching. Given his penchant for yelling about the absurdity of sports, you doubt he’s even paying attention to it, but the broadcasters’ monologues about fastballs and strikes curtails any attempt to speak to him. You barely touch your dinner, and Mandy tuts at you worriedly, but you insist you feel fine. 

In reality, you feel nauseated. You said a horrible thing to a wonderful person, and you really hurt his feelings. 

Maybe we can talk it through in the morning, you think, trying not to get your hopes up. Maybe we can apologize and move on. 

When you wake up the next morning, his bed has been slept in, left unmade while he’s probably in the bathroom. The curtain is pulled back; an excellent sign that he’s ready to hear your apology, and possibly forgive you. As soon as he comes back, you’ll give it a shot. 

“Gonna be quiet around here for a bit without your buddy, huh?” Mandy says from the doorway. She walks over to Eddie’s bed and starts stripping the sheets. “You get to say goodbye?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “I’ll have to catch him before he leaves.”

Mandy’s brows furrow in confusion. “Honey, his uncle came and got him an hour ago.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “He didn’t tell you?”

All you can do is shake your head.

“Probably didn’t wanna wake you. I’m sure he’ll stop by and visit.” Mandy curls the sheets into a ball and tucks them under her arm. “I’ll be back with breakfast and meds.”

As soon as she’s gone, you burst into tears. Eddie left without saying goodbye. He left thinking you don’t care about him or believe in him. He left without his Sunshine.

--

taglist: @thebrookemunson, @mystars123, @h-ness1944, @hazydespair, @ajkamins, @aysheashea, @jasminelafleur, @brittney69, @arsonfrogger, @brassreign, @lunarzstarz, @aftermidnightwriting, @justtryingtobecreative, @micheledawn1975, @kailynn-exe

[bow-of-aros]

Day Twenty-Seven: Non-Human Parts

Summary:

Peter's been neglecting taking care of himself in order to get some schoolwork done and now he has to face the consequences of his actions in Ted's worried mother henning.

Hey folks! I don't care if wingfics are considered cringe (I also don't know if they are) I WROTE ONE ANYWAY! Hope that y'all enjoy my silly little Spankoffski bros because I love them so much <33

Peter was just about ready to throw himself out his bedroom window. He hadn’t preened his wings in weeks because he was busy with schoolwork and upcoming exams in shit. Obviously he knew that it was bad, he’d grown up being told to keep his wings nice and clean and normally he did.

Except he hadn’t been, so Peter had woken up this morning an awful combination of itchy and sore. Normally he would be able to get this sorted on his own, but he also hadn’t been letting them breathe, so he couldn’t quite get at where they’d cramped up on his back.

It sucked.

Peter was right in the middle of trying to yank his fingers through a stubborn tangle of feathers when he was interrupted.

“Hey Petey, I was gonna go to the store do you need—” Ted cut himself off as he took in the scene, “What the actual fuck is that?!”

Ted stood in his doorway wearing his best dad glare which was funny because Ted was not his dad. To be fair, Ted had practically raised him and had constantly been on his ass about proper hygiene.

And Peter had just been caught red-handed completely ignoring everything he’s been told.

“What does it look like? I’m preening and shit.” Ted’s eyebrows shot up and Peter winced internally. He’d basically guaranteed himself a lecture.

“Peter Spankoffski that is not preening!” Ted raked a hand through his hair before gesturing at the litany of feathers scattered across the floor, “If you keep going like this you’re gonna get bald patches dumbass! How long has it even been since you’ve done this?”

The longer Peter didn’t answer, the more unimpressed Ted looked. When it became clear that the answer was too long Ted just sighed and said, “Get your ass on the couch, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He didn’t even give Peter the chance to respond as he turned on his heel and marched down the hall muttering about dumbass little brothers.

Peter briefly considered ignoring Ted and going back to what he was doing, but that idea was quickly discarded when he realized that Ted would just come back up and physically drag him downstairs.

Looks like he’s getting his ass on the couch.

Ted’s grabbing a couple of things when Peter gets downstairs, face a mask of annoyance that the slight puffing of his wings betrays. He immediately feels a little guilty knowing that he’s worried his brother and decides to let Ted do his whole mother hen routine with minimal complaining.

Peter can’t help examining Ted’s wings as he waits, even though he knows exactly what they look like: A tan brown with warm yellow and white undertones. They’re nearly identical to Peter’s own.

He won’t lie and say that he’s not happy that he got the same wings as his brother. It’s definitely not uncommon for family members to develop similar patterns, but Peter likes the extra connection between them.

When they were younger, it had been Ted that helped him learn to preen. He’d shown Peter how to use his oil glands to keep everything moisturized and how to properly set his feathers straight. The whole time was spent alternating between silly games to keep him occupied and trying to drill into him how important it was to keep this up.

They were some of Peter’s fondest memories of him and his brother.

“Alright kid,” Ted’s voice cut through his thoughts, “You know the drill. Lie down and don’t move.”

If he’s surprised when Peter immediately complies, he doesn’t say anything. Peter feels the couch dip under him as Ted hovers over him and gets to work.

Ted works in silence for a little bit, the way he only does when he’s really focused on something. He combs the broken barbs and various shit from where they’ve tangled into his feathers.

That part goes relatively well, the only change being Peter gradually relaxing into the couch as his brother takes care of him just like when he was a little kid.

Then, Ted does his best to very gently remove the broken feathers from his wings and—

“Ah! Shit dude!”

Ted immediately withdrew his hands with a, “Sorry, kid. You doing alright down there?”

The pain has already faded to a muted sting, and Peter knows that this is a necessary part of the process even if he doesn’t like it.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Then, quieter, “You can keep going.”

He heard a snort above him as Ted got back to it, “You know, if I didn’t know you and how you disregard your actual physical health when school shit gets in the way, I’d say that you did this on purpose.”

“Don’t worry. This was 100% pure Spankoffski dumbassery.”

They go back and forth like that for a while, Ted occasionally pausing to work the oil through his wings and ease the kinks that Peter had left alone for too long.

While doing this, Ted brushed a little too close to the underside of Peter’s wings and Peter couldn’t help the small yelp that slipped out as he flinched away.

He could hear the smirk in his brother’s voice when he said, “I told you to hold still, Petey.” Another brush, another half-laugh, “Seriously! If you keep moving I’m going to have to start all over.”

“What?!” Peter shrieked as Ted moved properly to the softer feathers on the underside of his wings, “Wahahahait Ted! Nononono fuhuhuck!”

He struggled to stay still, the threat still looming over him, but Ted was not making this easy on him.

“You’re dohohoing this on puhuhuhurpose! Tehehehed!”

Ted just laughed at him, “Look kid! I wouldn’t be doing this if you had just taken care of yourself in the first place.”

He squeezed along the bone under the guise of working out more kinks, only succeding in drawing out cackling laughter as Peter began to lose the battle against his urge to thrash around.

“TEHEHEHED! Come ohohohohon!” He flailed wildly, trying to smack Ted’s hands away with some very uncoordinated attacks.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief as Ted withdrew his hands, patting his still laughing brother on the head as he caught his breath.

“You,” Peter said in between fits of lingering giggles, “Are evil!”

When he craned his neck to look up at Ted, Ted was smiling at him. And not the shit-eating I got you sort of grin either. It looked like the smile Peter could feel resting on his face, one that said You’re my brother and I love you and I love messing around with you.

When Ted caught Peter’s eye he just scoffed, trying to cover it up, “Yeah yeah, maybe try taking care of yourself next time. Because,” Ah. There was the shit-eating grin, “You moved around too much and fucked up my work, so I have to go through it all again.”

“Wait! Wahahait Ted! Nohohohoho!”

Yeah, Peter was definitely going to remember to take care of himself next time.

[skyeeuphixia]

𝚕𝚒𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 // 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

lip Gallagher x girlfriend OC (Delilah) summary: in which lip and delilah give fiona a break and have the kids to themselves  or in which debbie and delilah get some 'sister' time

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warnings: n/a word count: 3.2k

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"Ok, Bottles are in the cupboard, formula and milk are in the fridge, but Lip knows all that," Fiona informs Lip's girlfriend, showing her where everything is as if she hadn't been dating Lip and coming over to the house for 7 months now. 

Today Fiona was stepping out of her comfort zone by spending the night away with her boyfriend, Jimmy/Steve. Jimmy/Steve had somehow managed to book a room at The Langham Hotel, meaning that Lip was now in charge of babysitting his younger siblings, minus Ian as he was having a sleepover with 'Mandy'. She had done it once before Lip and Delilah were dating, but that ended in Frank having to fake his death. So Fiona had managed to convince herself that everything would go to shit if she left for another night. It took a lot of convincing from all the kids, Kev, V and Jimmy/Steve to convince Fiona to go, let alone leave them with Liam alone. So she compromised, she would leave Lip in charge, if, his girlfriend Delilah helped out, because in her words "She will actually keep some order in this house." 

"Lay off my girlfriend Fi," Lip sighs trekking down the stairs to the kitchen, having already gone through the same lecture, twice, hours earlier, "It's not like she's not been here a million times, besides she's better with Liam than any of us."

Fiona sighed and placed the bottle she had picked up back in the cupboard before rubbing her forehead, "I know, I know it's just last time everything went down with Frank and-"

"-and that's different to any other day how?" Lip asks, standing next to his girlfriend, placing his arm around her shoulders, Delilah nudging him slightly giving a look that tells him to listen to his older sister. 

"Just, don't let the house burn down, don't let Frank in but I doubt he'll show up, uh what else, oh you two," She suddenly snapped pointing a finger between the two of them causing them to raise their eyebrows in surprise, not expecting the sudden change in attitude. 

"The moment I exit the house you two are "working", you're not hanging out, not on a date, your focus is on the kids, so no funny business." 

Lip opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by Fiona pointing at him once again, "Including after they fall asleep," she snaps, Lip's mouth promptly shutting. 

"Don't worry Fiona, I'll keep everything together." Delilah smiled at her, causing the older girl to give her a grateful smile. 

"Yeah besides we're going to have a fun time, won't we buddy?" Lip asks picking up Liam from his place on the sofa, making funny faces at him, "Oh and you mean we'll keep everything together?" Lip asked, looking at Delilah expectantly.

"I meant what I said," Delilah teased, leaving no room for Lip to argue as Jimmy/Steve enters through the front door and makes his way to the trio.

"Hey ready to go?" He asks Fiona, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"I just-"

"She's ready," Both Lip and Delilah answer at the same time, knowing that Fiona was just going to try and stall for longer. 

"Great, let's go," Jimmy/Steve smiles at her, slowly guiding her out of the house as she continued to call out orders to the two teenagers. 

"Lip, don't do anything Delilah wouldn't do! If I come back and everything has gone to shit I swear I will-" She didn't get to finish her threat however as the sound of the door shutting cut her off.  

Lip and Delilah looked at each other for a few seconds, waiting to see who would suggest what to do first, this was new to the two of them, normally, when they hung out together, there was a goal or purpose; just being in each others company, Homework, Sex. Sure they had a purpose, babysitting, but what are you supposed to do when none of the children need anything? 

"Movie?" 

"Sure," 

The two of them swiftly make their way over to the living room, Delilah grabbing a blanket and sitting on the couch, settling Liam next to her, Lip flipping through the selection of DVDs the Gallaghers owned. The Gallaghers had a few really good selections of films, the only issue was Delilah and Lip could never agree on what to watch. 

"Uh we got, insidious, Top Gun, IT-"

"You're just picking the ones you want to watch!" 

"Ok, you pick something out then,"

"Mean Girls" She answers picking up the movie with no hesitation and starting to open it before Lip snatched it out of her hands. 

"No way that movie's shit!"

"Oh yeah, how do you know that? Seen it before?" 

"Beyond the point! Look I just don't see what's so entertaining about watching dumb teenagers talk about how big their hair is," Lip argued back, smirking at her slightly. 

"Yeah well if we watched a horror film there's the risk of the kids coming down and traumatising themselves! Not to mention Liam is right here!" Delilah argues back, not wanting to risk the wrath of Fiona the following morning if she finds out that Debbie and Carl are all of a sudden too scared to fall asleep. 

"Ok fine, you pick, anything but mean girls," Lip groans, taking a seat back on the couch, swiftly joined by Delilah.

"Tangled,"

"That's a kids film,"

"Harry Potter!"

"I've watched that series with you three times now!"

"Angus, thongs and perfect snogging!"

"Take out Angus and that's my kind of night,"

"Bullet Train!"

"And listen to you drool over Aaron Taylor Johnson for two and a half hours again, no thanks,"

"Why don't we watch the next episode of blue planet? Everyone likes that!" 

"Yeah I guess, let's just watch that," Lip sighed, turning on the most recent episode of blue plant the family had recorded. The Gallaghers, Kev and Veronica, Jimmy/Steve and Delilah often watched different shows together, having episodes upon episodes of the different shows they watched recorded, however, it wasn't uncommon for Delilah and Lip to be an episode ahead of the rest, often watching the next episode in secret when no one's around. 

Lip and Delilah settled down next to each other, huddling up for warmth, Liam's head resting across Delilah's lap, as David Attenborough's calming voice introduced them to the wonders of the world's oceans. 

They watched in silence as a fish miraculously jumped out of the water and grabbed a bird midflight when from nowhere Debbie and Carl appeared in front of the TV.

"What the hell get out of the way, it was getting good!" Lip called out in frustration, pausing the show the couple was undoubtedly fascinated by. 

"We're bored," Debbie says matter-of-factly, placing her hands on her hips. 

"So? Entertain yourselves," Lip says, leaning back convinced that that simple sentence solved all their problems.

"You're the babysitters, you're supposed to entertain us," Carl argues back.

"Well, what do you guys want to do?" Delilah asks, sitting up so she could see them properly past Lip. 

"I want some girl time with Delilah," Debbie says smiling smugly at Lip, knowing she would be ruining the alone time he hoped to have with his girlfriend. 

"Ok, I'll go with Debbie, and you entertain Carl and Liam," Delilah announces standing from the couch, patting Lip's shoulder, and making her way towards the stairs with Debbie swiftly following her. 

"Wait, what!?" Lip exclaims, turning towards her, holding his arms out slightly, shocked by how willing Delilah was to listen to the demands of some 12 and 10-year-olds.

"We're here to babysit Lip, this is part of the job," Delilah shrugged before walking up the stairs, Debbie in tow, and walking to the room the younger girl shared with Liam. 

"So, what do you want to do Debs?" Delilah asked, sitting on the girl's bed, noticing how hard the mattress was. 

"I don't know, girl stuff and girl talk,"

"Girl stuff and girl talk?" Delilah smiles amused by the younger girl.

"Yeah, Fiona's busy and so I try not to bother her with girly talks, besides Fiona is a lot...rougher than you, and you're closer to my age! And you're not a Gallagher, I think it would be good to get an outside opinion," Debbie declares.

Delilah chuckled at the young girl, "Ok where do you want to start?"

Delilah watched as the younger girl made her way over to one of her shelves picked out a CD and swiftly put it into a pink CD player, which Delilah and Lip had gotten her for her birthday, the sound of Madonna's; Like a Virgin coming from it, causing Delilah to smile a little as she had been the one to introduce Debbie to 80s music.

"Hmm, wait here," Debbie swiftly made her way out and into the hall, leaving the older girl alone, Delilah let out a long breath as she waited, pulling a confused face as she heard the sounds of drawers opening and slamming shut. 

Before she could call out to Debbie, the redhead strutted back into the room with a small vial and a little bag in her hand. 

"Nails and makeup," Debbie said, putting a vial of baby pink nail varnish and Fiona's make-up bag on her bed.

"Debs," Delilah sighed, "This is Fiona's stuff we really shouldn't do this,"

"I'll take it all off before we go to bed! And Fiona will probably assume the nail varnish is yours 'cause you wear this colour all the time," Debbie reasons. Delilah puts her head down, noticing that she was, in fact, wearing the same baby pink nail varnish at that moment. 

"Ok, ok, let's start with the nail varnish then," Delilah smilies, picking up the vial and shaking it, before taking Debbie's left hand and starting to paint her nails, the two girls sat in silence for a few moments. 

"Do boys ever stop being gross and annoying?" Debbie asks out of nowhere, as Delilah finished off her left hand, painting the pinky finger and taking the other hand.

Delilah laughs and shakes her head, "Nope, never will, but you come to realise that girls are just as annoying as boys just in different ways, so one day, you'll find a boy or girl who's annoying compliments your annoying. Can't do much about the grossness though."

"Ugh, can't boys just be...better?"

"You come to realise as you get older Debbie, not everyone is perfect, you learn to tolerate the bad things, and love the good things, but if the bad things really bother you, then, if that person can't change it, they're not right for you."

"How do you know someone's right? How did you know my brother was the right one for you?" 

Delilah thought for a moment holding two different shades of blush towards Debbie's face, deciding the lighter of the two was more her colour, before beginning to apply some and answering the younger girl's question, "When he blocked Karen's number,"

"I never really liked Karen."

"You wouldn't be the only one,"

"Why did that do it?"

"At that point, we had been dating for around three months, and although he had been nothing but amazing, because of his past with Karen and Mandy, I had my doubts, and I'll admit, I was prepared for something to go wrong," Delilah admits. "I remember Mandy breaking up with Lip cause he was still in love with Karen, so throughout the first three months I was just looking for signs he still loved her because I just felt immensely insecure about my place in the relationship-"

"Wait what?! You? Insecure?"

"Oh yeah! I was so insecure, still am sometimes, I thought I was a huge downgrade, I wasn't as exciting as Mandy or Karen in...ways that you don't need to know. And so I thought he would get bored pretty quick and go back to Karen. And then one day while we were hanging out, his phone started ringing and it was Karen, and I was so prepared for him to drop everything and go running to her, I guess that showed on my face because, Lip looked at me, declined the call and deleted her number, nothing else had to be said, he told me everything I needed to know through his actions. It doesn't sound like much but, I know how much he cared for her so, it meant a lot to me, " Delilah retold, smiling thoughtfully. 

"I hope my future relationship is like yours and Lips,"

"Thanks, Debs," Delilah smiled, moving on to apply a light shade of red lipstick to Debbies's lips. 

"How did you and Lip even meet? I just remember you slowly spending more and more time here and I never really questioned it." Debbie asked, trying not to move her mouth too much.

"To be honest, I don't really know how it happened either, we sat next to each other in English for Sophmore and Junior year, but never spoke unless it was work-related, we only started talking as friends when Mandy and I got close, I'll be honest, we were so different we didn't like each other, but the more time we spent together, the closer friends we became and, I don't know, here we are." Delilah reminisced, brushing Debbies's hair and putting them into two neat plaits, which is how Debbie liked to wear her hair at night. 

"What's going to happen when you guys go off to college? You're not going to the same one," 

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we reach it, listen Debs if you have one foot in the future and one in the past, it means you're pissing on today," 

"What?"

"Basically don't worry about what's to come and what's going to happen, live in the moment Debs you'll be happier that way, and right now, what you have to do is get to bed, it's 9:30." 

"What no!" Debbie complained.

"Sorry Debs, Fionas orders, now, go take a look in the bathroom mirror, brush your teeth, get the make-up off, and get ready for bed, I'll put away Fiona's stuff," Delilah says, packing away the makeup as Debbie agrees, trudging out of the room, saying a quick thank you on her way out.

"Tell you what," Delilah says, "Next Saturday, you and I head off to the mall together, go to all your favourite shops, and we can play mine and Mandy's favourite game, we pick a clothes store and pick out clothes for the other person without showing them and we have to try them on." 

"Really?!"

"Really!" 

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!" Debbie repeats, hugging the older girl before running back out of the room to get ready for bed. 

Delilah chuckled at the younger girl's actions, turning off the CD player, before grabbing all of Fiona's stuff and bringing it into Fiona's room, managing to step on one of Liam's squeaky toys, which she was positive was actually a dog toy, on her way. 

As she exited Fiona's room, she was greeted by a very unimpressed, dishevelled-looking Lip, his hair was all over the place, parts  of his white tank top were ripped, and he had an already sleeping Liam on his hip, "What happened to you?" Delilah tried not to laugh. 

"Turns out Carl's idea of fun is hunting me down with his Nerf gun, and when I asked how I'm supposed to defend myself, the little shit laughed at me - Don't you start!" He accuses her, noticing her face contorting slightly as she attempts to hide her laughter. 

"Sorry, just didn't think you'd get the shit beat out of you by a 10-year-old," Delilah teases, taking Liam from Lip, pushing past him and going back into Debbie's room. Lip rolled his eyes rather and went in the opposite direction to his own room to make sure Carl went to bed.

Delilah gently put Liam in his crib, before turning and watching as Debbie tucked herself into bed, "Goodnight Debs," She said, turning the light off as she made her way out of the room. 

"Goodnight," She hears in reply as she shuts the door, Lip shuts the door to his room at the same time, walking over to join her. 

He was about to open his mouth to say something, but Delilah raise her hand, noticing the bottom of Debbie's door was illuminating a small pool of light.

"Debbie no reading under the covers, you know the rules," She calls out, the light immediately vanishes as Debbie turns her torch off, listening to the older girl. Delilah smiles smugly at Lip, causing him to roll his eyes at her, but he didn't try to hide the smile on his face. 

"You're good with them,"

"I know. So tell me," Delilah starts, heading down the nearest staircase to make her way back to the living room, being followed by her boyfriend, "How did you allow yourself to get chased around by a child?"

"Ok I did not 'allow myself' I was taken by surprise, I watch you go after Debs and when I turned back around the little shit was pointing the fucking thing in my face, so I did what most people would do if they had a gun pointed at them, I ran!" 

"And what was Liam doing during all this?" Delilah asked as she sat back in her original spot on the sofa, Lip sitting a few moments after her, putting his arm around her.

"Little fucker just sat and laughed the whole time." Lip grumbled, looking back at his girlfriend, whose mouth was twitching slightly, "Don't even," 

"I'm not saying anything!" 

"Yeah well, how you feel about that is written all over your face, you're an open book love," Lip states, reaching forwards slightly to grab the remote to the TV, unpausing the show to continue where they left off. 

"Am not!" 

"Whatever you say, babe, whatever you say," 

Delilah rolled her eyes at her boyfriend before snuggling up to him so that they were both more comfortable. As the night drew on the teenager's eyes slowly drooped as they both fell asleep in each other's arms, which their backs would hate them for tomorrow, as the lumpiness of the sofa would for sure cause them some aches, not that they cared right now though, they were far to content and tired to care about that. 

After a relaxing night, even though some lingering worry stayed in the back of her mind, Fiona returned home in the early hours of the next morning to find the house not in complete chaos, but instead, the two teenagers still snuggled up close to one another, the TV now playing some random news channel in the background. 

The sight of the two teenagers made the older sister smile, it was rare to see the two of them so relaxed, considering they were often stressed with either work, school or job-wise, chores or general teenage stress. This was the most relaxed she had seen the two of them in a while, which surprised her, as she thought the kids would have made them reconsider all of their life choices by now. 

"You did good guys," she whispered, as she slipped one envelope into Lip's favourite hoodie, which was hanging off the side of the couch, and one into Delilah's jacket, which was hanging up on the coat hanger, each one containing $25 for their efforts. 

They deserve it. 

■━■━■ (fin)

[ardentcastle]

Fic List

Hello. I write Polin fanfic. Here's links to some stuff.

WIP(s)

Returning To You:

It's a regular Friday for Colin Bridgerton. When a knock at his door changes everything. ‘My name is Agatha Featherington. I have reason to believe you are my father.’

Complete - Multi Chapter

please, burn my world down

Colin chuckled. ‘Please. I could have you screaming my name in minutes.’ ‘Prove it then.’ Nope. She hadn’t meant to say that part out loud. Not at all. — — Penelope and Colin used to be friends. Now they can barely exist in the same room without starting an argument. What was supposed to be a relaxing girls trip at Aubrey Hall quickly turned into something else for Penelope.

Waking Up In Vegas

'Eloise, tell me. Please,' she begged. She needed to know, what could possibly have her friend so worried about her, and Colin looking like he was about to pass out. What happened? Eloise sighed. 'You really don't remember marrying Colin last night?' 'Excuse me, what?' ———— The fic where they get drunk and marry in Vegas.

Between Us

The first time was an accident, it just… happened. The second time was testing the waters, was the first a fluke or not? Neither of them have a real excuse for the third, and the fourth, well, by the fourth time they’d finally started to sort their shit out. OR Three times Colin and Penelope got drunk and had sex and a fourth where they were completely sober.

Breakable Heaven

It was messed up. She knew it was. But from the day it had started she hadn't been strong enough to put an end to it. She was never going to have Colin Bridgerton. Not really. He was too… and so… and she was… Just Penelope. Dorky friend of the younger sister. So if she couldn’t have him in the way she wanted, she would take any piece she could get.

--- Colin and Penelope have fallen into a messy and complicated friends with benefits situation, that only gets even moreso when Penelope has another man showing interest and she and Colin are thrown into forced proximity.

One Shots

Ruining Lady Whistledown

‘I do not understand, how it is I can be furious with you. So angry at what you have done, and yet, desire you as much as I do,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t. I wish I could turn away from you. Forget what it was like to taste you, to feel you, to have you. I cannot.’ Season 3, Episode 8 - Colin didn’t leave the bedroom after going in to get the blanket. //Pt 2 - Penelope writes a Whistledown column for Colin's eyes only

Go Through The Motions

I could coach you.' 'What?' her head snapped up to his, her eyes wide with surprise. 'I could… I mean, I could show you a few different ways so that you don't feel so out of your depth,' 'You want to show me different sex positions?' her voice was disbelieving. 'Yes,' Polin Week Day 2 Prompt: Lessons - Colin offers to help out his friend when she’s nervous for an upcoming date.

wasn't for you

Penelope: Oh my god it's been so long since I've been laid. I just want to get totally dicked, you know? Completely meaningless sex where I'm absolutely pounded until I forget my own name. Colin: ??? Penelope: Oh my god. Colin: You want to forget your name? Penelope: that text wasn't for you Penelope accidentally sends a text message, meant for the girls chat to Colin instead and things get… interesting for them.

Twelve Years of Christmas

If there’s one thing Penelope and Colin will do, no matter where they are, who they’re with, or what has happened between them, it is message each other on Christmas Day. Text messages from twelve Christmas days over the years as they grow up.

The Road Not Taken (looks real good now)

It’s that time of year. When the tether she has to this small town pulls her back. It doesn’t matter where she is on this planet. She ends up back here. For five days she will imagine what her life might have been like if she never left. Based loosely on Taylor Swift’s ‘tis the damn season

Of Snowball Fights and Discovering Delights

Penelope is spending Christmas at Aubrey Hall this year. An annual Bridgerton snowball fight accidentally leads to a lot more than she ever hoped. --------- 'I've never kissed anyone. I might be bad at it.' 'I think that would be impossible.'

The Holiday Party

Quickly Penelope pressed play on the music video and it started, and with the more she watched, the more the heat in her rose and rose. He was singing about her. Normally she wouldn’t be so presumptuous. She wouldn’t assume. But right now, as the video played out how they met, there was no doubt at all. Colin Bridgerton wrote a song about her. Colin Bridgerton is a superstar. Penelope works a standard 9 to 5 and lives a quiet life. When Colin is performing at her work Christmas party, she captures his eye. And there is no turning back for either of them from there. No matter how hard Penelope tries to resist, and convince herself it couldn't possibly be happening.

Under Me

'Hey, you tried to call me?' he said. 'I tried to…' she trailed off. Oh fuck. In a sudden flash what she'd done came back to her. She had completely forgotten, most of the night was a drunken haze. The voicemail she'd left. The things she'd said. _______ In which Pen leaves Colin a revealing voicemail and can't take it back

Look At Your Face

Colin starts loosing his mind, when on the Bridgerton's annual summer holiday Penelope is comfortable talking to everyone, except him. Any time he tries she suddenly needs to be somewhere else (she's had a laugh with Anthony of all people! But won't so much as look Colin's way) and he's going insane trying to work out why she's ignoring him. There's a game of never have I ever that reveals a lot, and eventually Colin finds the nerve to confront her about her silence towards him. Loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's Gorgeous and in particular 'I can't say anything to your face, cause look at your face'.

Inescapable

The ton is at Aubrey Hall for a Bridgerton Ball. Colin finds Penelope in his room -- 'Pen? Why are you in my room?' He asked. She appeared to be frozen to the spot. Her mouth slightly open, and a flush that started on her cheeks spread down towards her chest. Colin brought his eyes back up to hers the moment he realised he was a bit too transfixed on what her hands couldn't hide from him. 'I was told I would be retiring here.' She finally said, her voice was soft, shaky. 'You must be mistaken.' Colin said.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 13/4 - 2

Yup! The Alpha timeline offers a novel solution to the problem of Sylladex capacity. If the Captcha index only needs to be consistent in the Alpha timeline, then it doesn't have to worry about reserving index space for every possible item.

If this is how things work, then the Sylladex isn't predestined, per se - it's enforced. Everyone has a finite set of objects that they're allowed to captchalogue, and if you pick up anything else, your index is invalidated - and your timeline is pruned.

You could still call it predestination, if you were so inclined, but that's only partially accurate. It's more that you're coerced into 'choosing' one particular destination - or else.

I'm loving these voice headcanons. Scratch as Emperor Belos is inspired.

What the hell? That's amazing.

Based on my (admittedly limited) experience with web administration, it's not all that surprising, either. Hacks like this are shockingly common.

No worries! The vast majority of followers don't actually interact with these posts' notes, but I still assume they're reading them. Just a quirk of Tumblr's norms.

My best guess is that the drones would arrive when the troll is on the cusp of adulthood, shortly before they leave Alternia. That would give them as much time as possible to form potent relationships - which would, in turn, give the Empire the most potent wrigglers.

I still think it would motivate younger trolls, though. I mean, if all single people are executed at eighteen, you might feel a little pressure to enter the dating game early.

Never forget the Der-sayer incident.

Rereading it, Karkat scans as sad, angry, resigned, confused, lonely, and trying to bottle up an avalanche of "FRESH RAGE."

I think we're both half right, here - he's drowning in a tide of pretty much every negative emotion imaginable.

Thank you!! We triple-checked, and it seems like Tumblr ate the first half of this ask :(

Much appreciated, though!! I love that metaphor for coming up with scattershot theories.

Oh, that makes sense. Can't believe I missed a Hussie pun, but that one was a little harder to notice.

This makes it sound like the universe is tethering her to life, just as she tethers it. What is up with this lady?

That's true! I'm pretty sure it's both.

I'd always imagined Equius as being pretty tall. They're all the same height in sprite art though, so I think it's another case of sprite art being non-representative.

I'm withholding judgement on the Meowrails until we get more interactions between them. Their early conversations were a little worrying, but it's possible that Hussie hadn't fully fleshed out the concept of Moirallegiance at the time. We'll see how they interact now that how their quadrant works has been expanded on.

[ Problem sleuth is still hosted there😁- C ]

It still seems to work for me!

Oh, fun! I guess John's birthday does sort of fall into a half-pattern with the others.

Still, it would have made more sense for him to be in a line with the other Players - his Chumhandle doesn't match theirs, either, so maybe John's just a weird case.

Thank you! I feel like this sort of analysis can only really be applied to fictional characters, though. Everything a character says or does is the result of a deliberate choice made by a writer, and I can use my knowledge of that fact to frame my analysis.

In real life, though, people just say shit - often for no reason, or for reasons they don't understand themselves. People are a lot more complicated than even the most well-written character, and understanding them requires a whole different skillset!

Someone also posted Hussie's author comment about this. It's been years since I watched the movie - and if I recall correctly, it was also pretty meta itself. Maybe I need to watch it again, as reading material for Homestuck.

ferretlady97 submitted: talking about the book commentary reminded me of something i was gonna send you when the troll black queen took off her ring but forgot "Note that when she takes the ring off six orbs are filled. Three players from the blue team have entered the session, and three from the red team. Aradia was the second of the blue team to enter. Nepeta was third. Aradia's entry is when the frog mutations took effect on the ring-wearer. And then an interval passed before Nepeta's entry. Which means the queen actually spent a decent amount of time looking like a frog, deliberating whether or not she could put up with this for an entire game session. Ultimately, she couldn't hang in there. But this does imply she at least tried." i just think it's funny thanks for your time

The language used here - the fact that she couldn't 'put up' with her transformation into a frog, and couldn't 'hang in there' - seems to imply that doing so harms her in some way.

All the frog symbolism is still a closed book to me. What exactly does Bilious Slick represent or symbolize that Derse hates so much?

[ you got another ask about LOLCAT but it has classpect spoilers so I'm saving it for later - C ]

I suppose that could work - but then again, it seems that 25% of all Lands have some association with water, so it can't always represent Life. I do want to come back to this later, though, when the Classes and Aspects are better defined.

Send away! It'll be a while until I use them, though.

I appreciate it! That's a minimum bound that I'd have to pick up the pace to reach, at this point.

Hey, what can I say? I'm here for a good time, and a long time. >:)

I keep forgetting that LOSS is a references to a fanfic. I associate it more with you, the LOSS Anon!

If she can't, she's definitely phrasing things in a misleading way, trying to imply that she can. The Tavros scene is arguable, but I really can't think of any other way to interpret how she talks about the Consorts, unless she's straight up lying - and she really doesn't do that much.

Vriska 100%s the game, but skips all the cutscenes?

...yeah, I can see it. Every side quest is another chance to win!!!!!!!! >::::)

[writings-of-a-demigod]

Following the wrong path (Daredevil)

plot: you are Matt’s younger sibling & he finds out that you’re a boxer like your dad.

characters: Matt Murdock x sibling reader + Foggy Nelson x reader

a/n: I had this thing for a long while and I wanted to post it so I can work on the others. Sorry if there are any mistakes point them out to me so I can fix them.

*gif doesn't belong to me*

It was 9pm and Y/n just got out of work but they weren't heading home not yet at least, they thought it was a little early for that so they headed to where they spend most their night after crappy day at work, the gym. They started going there when they were just 12, they loved boxing so much it made them feel closer to their dad even though he didn't want them or their brother to be like him, he wanted them to go to school and then collage and get a good job after but that didn't stop them from boxing every once and a while. It started that way but that all changed in time to everyday they even got matches set up for them and they won some and lost some but that didn't stop them.

An hour after they came in Spencer the guy who set up matches, came to tell them the news "Hey there" he said standing next to the ring "Hey" they didn't even look away from the boxing bag "So I got some news for you" he said with a smile "Oh yeah, what is it?" they kept on punching the bag "I set you up with 3 matches starting next week" they stopped and turned to face him with a smirk "Really? Who am I going to beat the shit of this time" his smile grew bigger "Oh you're going to like this" he took out a paper and handle it to them. After looking over the names they looked up at him still smiling like a dork "You're kidding me!" they looked a little surprised "Nope" that all he said, they looked again at the paper "How did you manage to get me a match with them?"  looking at him again as he was walking toward the doors "Doesn't matter, I'm betting on you Murdock" he laughed and with that he was gone.

 After finishing it was almost midnight so they thought it was about time to head home, as they were walking passed a bunch of men and they started to follow them 'Great what I needed' Y/n thought. So they took a turn and ended in a ally and they were right behind them "Come here beautiful we won't hurt you" one of them said with a laugh and the others joined him "Look you really don't want to do this" Y/n said to them "Aw are you scared from us don't worry we will take it easy on you" the other one said Y/n laughed "Oh I'm not scared of you, you're the one who should be scared of me" one of them got mad and attacked he was trying to grab them from their shoulder but Y/n moved fast and grabbed his wrist and twisted it, he screamed so Y/n kicked him he fall to his knees so they punched his face giving him a broken nose the other two looked at each other then attacked at the same time then someone jumped in front of them, one moved easily to them passed the stranger and started to fight them throwing punches while the other was fighting with the stranger who was trying to help them, so Y/n kicked him in the guts and grabbed his arm and hold it behind his back while he screamed in agony so they punched him in his throat then they punched him few times in the face until he fall down because he was bigger than the first man so he took a little time longer to go down. After they made sure he was down they turned around and saw the stranger who was wearing all black and a mask as well taking down the last 2 men "I didn't need your help, I got everything under control" Y/n said "Most people say thank you" he answered then run away they looked at the direction he went he disappeared fast "Thank you anyways" they muttered to themselves.

~~~The week after ~~~

It's was the day of the match Y/n were there early to get ready Spenser made sure everything was ready and set "You better win Murdock" he said as he patted their shoulder "Oh wow that much faith you got in me" he smiled at her "I'm putting my money on you today" they laughed a little "Why does this sound like it's the first time you do that?" he laughed at them "I believe you" that was their thing they believed in each other "You better or I will kick your ass" they punched his arm playfully "Save the anger for the ring" they laughed "You're an idiot" they told him.

~~~Time skip to the match~~~

Foggy and Matt were passing next to the gym when they heard shots coming from inside "I didn’t know there was a match today?" Foggy asked "Yeah let's go see who" Matt answered as he dragged Foggy inside, when they got in "You won't believe this" Foggy said to Matt as he watched Y/n fight "What?" Matt asked him "It's your sibling" right there they knocked their opponent down and the bell ringed "The winner is Y/n Murdock" Matt grabbed Foggy's arm "Let's get out of here" he said as they were heading to the door, Foggy has never seen Matt this angry before but he was thanking god he wasn't Y/n.

~~~Next Morning~~~

There was a knock on Y/n door she looked at the clock with confusion then back at the door, there was another knock they sat their coffee mug on the table then went to open the door, they looked through the hole it was Matt so they opened the door "Good morning Y/n" he smiled at them "Good morning, come in" they moved so he can get in then closed the door behind them "Want some coffee Matty?" they asked "Yes if you don't mind" he answered as he sat down. After brining a mug for him they sat down "So what's up?".

"Oh nothing I was just walking around and I thought I should stop by to see you" he took a sip "Oh come on Matt tell me" he placed his mug on the table in front of him "So when are you going to tell me?" he asked and Y/n looked a little shocked but didn't show it even if he couldn't see it "Tell you what Matt?" they played it cool "You know what I'm asking about" he looked serious "I don't know what are you talking about" they lied, and he knew it even if he couldn't listen to their heartbeat he knew when his sibling lied "Stop lying Y/n you know".

They placed her mug on the table "Matt..." they started "You think I won't find out? How long since you've been fighting?" he cut them in "I didn't think you would ever find out okay and it's been years" they answered only what he asked them "Dad didn't want this for you....he didn't want this for both of us" it was their time to cut in "I KNOW HE DIDN'T AND I DID WHAT HE WANTED I WENT TO SCHOOL AND COLLAGE AND I GOT A JOB BUT THIS MAKES ME FEEL CLOSER TO HIM AND IT FEELS JUST RIGHT" they stood up while yelling "You should stop it" he raised his voice a little "I'm not going to stop THERE I SAID IT" he sighed "I CAN TELL YOU I WILL STOP BUT THEN I WILL BE LYING SO I'M TELLING YOU THE TRUTH" It was his turn to yell but he didn't "I just don't want you to get hurt that's all.....I don't want to lose you like I did with dad" the way he said it Y/n felt the sadness in his heart "You're not going to lose me Matt" their tears are beginning to show "I just really miss him and this is the only way I feel like.......like we're close to each other" tears running down their face "If you weren't blind Matt wouldn't you be fighting as well? Tell me the truth" he went closer to them "You're right I would" he reached out for them and hugged them "Come here" as they cry on his shoulder "I'm sorry I yelled at you" he run his hand up and down their back "It's okay don't worry about it".

[mintaikk]

Wally Headcanons because he's one of my favorite rivals

-Shorter than May and Brendan. I say this because masters made them the same height. I know everyone in Masters is a bit older than how they were introduced, BUT I STILL FIND IT CURSED. WHY IS HE AT EYE LEVEL WITH THEM??

-Saw a headcanon that he's trans, and I have decided to adopt it as well

-Really silent when he walks, and it scares the shit out of May and Brendan

-Had a ninja phase when he was younger, which is probably where he learned how to walk really quietly

-Because Beni makes potato mochi, I have decided that Wally also loves potato mochi. Other foods he enjoys are smores and cinnamon roles. His favorite drink is ginger tea

-Wally has a fear of the dark and is a bit embarrassed about it. Luckily for him, his magnezone is always willing to provide light for him. He also has a small fear of germs and heights

-Ya'll watched Twilight Wings, right? John is a sick kid that wants to start a Pokemon Journey, which is similar to Wally, and he looks a lot like Wally as well. Considering Wally became a really strong trainer, I like to belive that John looks up to him (I actually read a fic where they met. It's called "Fans" by skippingmud on Ao3!

-Wally has a stutter. It got better as he got older, but it becomes a lot more prominent when scared or excited

-His favorite music genre is rock music, which surprises a lot of people. He'll just be sitting on a bench peacefully Journaling his day while listening to hard-core rock music

-Has tried to use Mega Gallade's cape as a blanket, only for him to be sad when it disappeared (obviously weren't battling at the time, which is why it dissaprared)

-He really enjoys literature and journaling and kept a journal with him about his experience and battles on his journey

-Likes receiving gifts but gets really embarrassed when someone gives him one because he feels like he's being spoiled. And then he always tries to return the favor

-We already know this is canon, but he's really close with his Gallade. When he caught him as a ralts, he was a bit nervous around him because it was his first pokemon, and he was still learning, but he was able to relax and gain more confidence with it. Now his Gallade is really protective of him

-He is a bit of a history nerd and enjoys learning about the 1900s

-Would get along really well with Allister

-Worries and overthinks things a lot

-Wally wouldn't curse when he was younger (whole time period in Oras basically), cursed a bit as he got older (masters), and as a teenager, he still won't curse much but when he's annoyed he'll straight you say, "Please fuck off I have a Garchomp and a Gallade who can mega evolve. I don't feel like dealing with your bullshit right now"

[boyswanna-be-her]

Lmao the walk was super fun but only two people showed up (my biggest fan, who was obvs gonna be there, and a new friend who we both met at the same time through volunteering which is cute and fun, he's a p good deal younger than us). Since it was just the 3 of us, we hiked the WHOLE trail system and had a blast. Got lunch afterwards. I invited them to come out to the beach with me, and my friend decided to follow me straight out and new boy went home first but then flaked and never ended up coming to the beach.

So the clown dance continued, we swam and sunned and laughed, came back to my apartment, eventually got hungry and went to dinner, our third meal together in a row today. At every point they were hesitant to leave and happy to be invited to do the next thing. The only reason why we're not together now is that we're supposed to lift tonight at their place with someone else joining, so they headed back to their own side of town while I went home to take a shower.

This is actually a great holding pattern as far as I'm concerned. We spend as much time and I'd be willing to spend with someone I was dating, and I enjoy spending time with them more than being alone (USUALLY more, sometimes they're in a mood and I'd rather split). It's been so long since I've ACTUALLY enjoyed someone's company more than my own that I wasn't sure that would ever even happen again for me. I'm happy with this. The chemistry is there but--and holy shit i can't believe im saying this--I don't actually want to risk our friend...ship? Lmao? Who am i?

I also made an offhand comment about planning something fun and they responded "I don't really drink so that can make it hard" and of course in light of recent life changes on my side I'm like 👀👀👀 that is the opposite of a problem! But it also makes me sad bc they have been drinking with me some on our off hours and it sounds like they were just trying to keep up with me/not murder the vibe and that was SO not necessary. It also makes some stuff track more in retrospect (like "oh what was up with them that night?" ends up being "they were sleepy bc they dont drink booze normally"). Anyway, since it came up organically I told them that I was actually working on my sobriety and that it was difficult with my parents as enablers/people who want a drinking buddy from their child--and wouldnt you fucking know, bc we have everything else in common, they also have the SAME dynamic w their parents. And they seemed happy that sobriety was something I was thinking about and valued, but possibly more relieved that I actually DO enjoy our time together when we're both sober and want to do more of that.

We're finally getting into some deeper shit and I'm learning about their history and what makes them tick. Like they speak their mind super freely, but they are SO private about their family and personal life to the point that it feels almost too intimate to learn some of this shit that people who have known them longer are oblivious about. On the other hand, I'm a open book about everything I've been through and my mental health but good fucking luck getting an earnest take out of me on anything unless i deeply trust you. It makes for a weird game of learning about each other. I thanked them today for being a friend who's down to clown with all of my stupid suggestions and admitted that I normally just do everything alone but it's more fun with them. They expressed it all back to me. Alone for a long time, fine with that, surprised to find me, thankful for that too. It's just like, hm. Very comfy. And I don't worry about being wanted or wearing out my welcome, and I don't get taken advantage of, and they stand up for me and do nice things for me, and feed me and worry about me. That's such a nice change for me from being either The Provider or a person who wants for nothing or no one. It's scary to want someone in my life, even in this capacity, but it's more rewarding than I thought it could be without, yknow, actively trying to date or hook up. I feel like the possibility of something more is stalking us from location to location like the monster in It Follows--sometimes our knees are nestled together while we talk and it's breathing down our necks and sometimes we're both distracted and moody and it's not something either is thinking too much about, but fuck if it isn't always there and a thing I think we will inevitably make a choice about in the future but.

[bumblepony]

For the touches ficlet prompts could I have hugs number 17, hugging from behind?

Thank you, @ameerawrites, for this lovely Tumblr prompt. I really enjoyed writing it.

Maria huffs as she pushes her locs back from her sweaty brow. Ameera caught a cold that was going around town, and Jack had pulled his back last week trying to impress some of the younger patrollers when getting off his horse. So Maria was stuck having to help in the barn. It's not that she hates working with the horses, but honestly, it's not one of her favorite jobs.

With a groan, she brings her hands to the small of her back and tries to bend backward just a little to alleviate some of the stiffness she's experiencing, mucking out the stalls. She hears two loud pops and gives a near moan at the immediate relief that rushes through her body.

She's just about to grab the shovel again when she feels a set of arms wrap around her waist and a tall, hard body press up against her back. She gasps in surprise and instinctively grabs one of the arms around her waist; she twists her body while twisting the arm, and once she's turned around, her attacker is facing away from her, their arm having been forced up behind their back. Using her full body weight, she shoves the unknown individual into the stall wall and holds them there by continuing to apply upward pressure to their arm and elbow.

"Shit, shit, shit. Maria stop, it's me, it's Tommy. You're gonna break my fuckin' arm." Tommy grunts, his face smushed up against the rough wood. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Maria gasps and releases him right away, stepping back with her hands in the air. "Tommy, oh my god, I'm so sorry." Tommy groans, turning himself slowly around and rubbing his elbow, with an embarrassed expression on his face. "What the hell were you thinking sneaking up on me like that."

"I'm real sorry, darlin' just was walkin' by on my way to the tack room, and I saw you here, and I just wanted to say good mornin'. Figured you might welcome it after last night." Tommy brings his hand up to run along the back of his neck nervously, a flush creeping along his cheeks. Maria feels her skin heat as well as she remembers the rushed sloppy kisses that they had exchanged last night outside the Tipsy Bison after they had both spent the evening dancing and drinking. They'd finally broken apart, and Tommy had walked her to her house, Maria had thought about inviting him in, but by the time they had gotten to her door, cooler heads seemed to have prevailed. Tommy had given her a chaste kiss before pulling away, tipping his hat, and wishing her a good night.

"Yeah, about that. I had a little too much to drink, and I think things got away from me," Maria says, taking another step back, trying to put some distance between them. "I don't think it's a good idea for the two of us to get involved."

"Why's that sugar?" Tommy asks, an eyebrow cocked in question.

"Well, first of all, you're too young for me," Maria says, waving her hand between the two of them. 

Tommy puts his hands up to forestall her, "Whoa, whoa, Maria, hold up. Just hold up. First, how old do you think I am, darlin'?"

"Your early 30s?"

"Oh, Shit, sweetheart, no, I’m 43."

"Oh. Well, then, you look a lot younger."

“Thanks for the compliment, sugar.” He smiles, then an idea seems to flash behind his eyes, and he squints at her. “Now just wait, how old are you?

“Same age.” She replies, pulling her locs back up into a bun on the top of her head.

“Well shit, that's good then, here I was, thinkin’ I was a dirty old man for bein’ interested in you. That one less thing to worry ‘bout.”

Maria waves her hand at him and tuts, “You can’t have thought I was that much younger than you.”

“I can, and I did, darlin’. Now I’m mighty happy ya ain’t because that means I can do this.” He steps forward right into her personal space, Maria automatically backs up and realizes that she’s right against the other stall wall. Tommy doesn’t touch her this time he just places one arm on the wall above her and leans in like he’s about to kiss her but stops a few inches away. “Maria, can I kiss ya?”

Maria raises a hand to rest on his chest. “Yes, but… did you learn how to do this in a book or something?” She waves at his arm above her on the wall.

“What do ya mean?” Tommy wrinkles his forehead as he looks at his arm and then back down at her.

“The whole put your hand on the wall and lean in thing. It’s just something men do in romance novels,” Maria says, trying and failing to hold back a laugh.

“Hey now, all my moves are one hundred percent Tommy Miller originals.” He huffs with indignation, but Maria can see a playful twinkle in his eye. “Now, can I finally kiss ya darlin'?”

“Sure, but can we maybe do it away from the horse shit,” Maria says with another laugh, and they both look down, taking in their location.

“Oh damn sure, shoulda thought of that before. How bout I help ya get this taken care of, then I take you for a bite over at the dinnin’ hall.” Tommy steps back and shuffles over to the shovel.

“I love every part of that idea, but how about after we’re done here, we go back to my house so we can shower this crap off, and then we can eat some leftovers from my fridge after I’ve thoroughly ravished you,” Maria says giving Tommy a wink.

“Oh, I like your idea a lot better, but I got one addendum,” Tommy says, dropping his shovel and sweeping Maria up into his arms, kissing her soundly as he walks her out of the stall. Once they’re both breathless, he pulls away, “How’s about we do everythin’ in your plan, but we skip finishin’ up here since this stall ain't currently bein’ used, and you already finished the rest. I happen to know someone who’s a part of the council and I think she’ll forgive us skippin’ this one for today.”

“You know, Tommy, I think you’re right. I don’t think she’ll mind us skipping this one for today. Now take me home, cowboy.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

[katsushika-division]

Akihisa's Thoughts on Kobe Division

Ren Nakashima

“Ah, young Ren I’ve met him a few times whenever he comes down to pick up Max or his younger brother Ryōhei when he comes to hang out with Akari. It's always nice whenever he comes down to visit. We often talk about music sometimes we even put on a little show for the others with his guitar and my piano. In fact, the piano opening to one of his new songs was performed by me although I told him not to credit me. He doesn't need the backlash if the public becomes aware of my involvement.” 

Max Soukoku

Akihisa looks at the photo his face softening a bit at the sight of the brown-haired teen. “Before my capture, I was aware of the existence of the group known as ”The Commission”. I didn't particularly care about them. I had my jobs and they had theirs. As long as our paths didn't intersect I had no issue with them. So imagine my surprise when the young boy Touya brought home one day was one of their members. I wasn't particularly worried because I knew could handle him if he got violent. What I never imagined was that I would become fond of young Max the same way I am of Touya and Rintaro the longer he stayed. I guess you can say that I see Max as my son. Touya, Rintaro, and Akari all see him as a brother heck the three of them converted a room for him whenever he comes over. As for Max, I think I cemented my place in his life when I comforted him during a nightmare. It’s become a tradition for us now that whenever he has a nightmare we go down to the kitchen and I make us hot chocolate from scratch.” Akihisa ruefully smiles. “I wonder what Sophie would say if she saw me now.” 

Kaiji Sano 

“Young Kaiji is over quite a bit mainly for Touya. I’m grateful for that. Touya’s childhood was not….kind to him. It left him unstable at best and psychotic at worst. It doesn't help many are fearful of him. So young Kaiji’s friendship is one of the bright lights in Touya’s life. Touya adores it when they dress up together. Although some of the things he says in French would make most people blush. It doesn't bother me. Sophie was much raunchier than he was especially when she got in the mood.” Akihisa frowns. “One thing I've noticed is that Kaiji seems to pause when he sees Touya take his medication. I can take a guess as to why but I won't force young Kaiji to tell me if he doesn't want to.”

Lovesick

As much as I’m fond of this team I won't go easy on them. We have too much to lose if we were to go easy on them. That being said I hope the boys don't take anything we say to heart, especially Max. I don't wish to fight him but knowing Chuohku they'll force us to.” Akihisa sighs. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

[onbearfeet]

I recently hit 40. If I could go back in time and talk to my younger self, the one who so sincerely didn't think she'd live this long that it didn't matter to her that she'd lose access to healthcare at this age, here is what I would say.

Hey, hon. (Yeah, I know I sound like Nora. You'll find out why she calls you that when you're me.)

You remember that guy in high school--it was Jacob, right?--who told you you'd marry a boring businessman and be miserable forever? Yeah, turns out you REALLY don't have to worry about that. Other things, maybe, but not that.

I'm not gonna lie to you. There's some rough road ahead for us, and you will have some miserable days. But you know that already, so let me tell you about the other stuff.

Someday, you're gonna go to San Diego Comic-Con, just like you and Alisa used to talk about. You'll go a lot, actually. You'll get to tell Gene Colan what his art means to you. Timothy Zahn will personally tell you the story of the Star-Lord comic he never got to write. Peter Beagle will compliment your poetry. No, seriously. But that's not all.

You'll ride a train up the West Coast and get all the way to Canada like it's nothing. You'll get to stand on the island where one of your favorite books was set--and written, too. You'll learn to sing. You'll watch meteor showers and cuddle a wolf cub as it falls asleep in your arms.

You'll write a lot. SO much. That'll never stop, really. And you'll like a lot of what you write. Seriously.

You'll find out a lot of things about yourself. Turns out you're allergic to coffee, and it also turns out you're not 100% straight. No, no, don't freak out, because you're ALSO gonna learn a lot of ancient Greek, and it turns out there were some ... translation issues. And also the Apostle Paul was probably the same kind of not-straight we are. And while you'll definitely date some men who exist, you'll also date some nice women. The one who takes you to a used bookstore and wants you to meet her dogs? Yeah, she's as cool as she sounds.

As you get older, you'll finally get some therapy and learn to hate yourself a lot less. Like, right now you don't even KNOW how much anxiety and self-loathing you're carrying around. It'll be like dropping a backpack full of rocks you forgot you had. Also, weird side effect: animals will REALLY like you after that. I don't know how it works either.

Most of the best stuff will surprise you like that. It won't be stuff you're looking for or expecting; it'll just sort of happen, and me describing it to you now would be like us trying to describe to somebody else why four is blue. But it's good. Indescribably good. Worth staying alive for.

So when the bad shit happens--and it will--I want you to remember that the good shit is more good than the bad shit is bad. That it's WORTH it. You're going to be a glorious weirdo and it's SO much fun. You won't even care that your knees hurt.

listen. aging into your thirties rocks. yes your joints get a little creaky. yes you can’t sleep in a pretzel on the floor anymore after a concert or a convention. and you lose some friends. but the thing is that you sort out who your real friends are and you sort out who you really are. and you get to see your friends settling into careers they like, and adopt new dogs and cats, and you find a job you can stand, and get really good at arts and crafts, and maybe that book you loved as a kid gets a movie deal and it doesn’t suck, and you learn to like new food and bake your own bread, and you realize that the great portfolio of self harm scars you all used to curate are going white with age and not updated, and half your friends are a different gender now and so much happier and maybe you are too, and you know who you are, and that it’s a journey and not a revelation. it’s a direction you’re headed, and you’re enjoying the trip.

reaching your 30′s rocks. and i’m hearing good things about what comes next, too.

[ogcrazylizard]

Reminder of what he claims to be but isn't at all. BDSM? "Not for me." That's a lie.

Various moments and examples. Most than likely wanted something from me when I wanted to kill myself and said what he said because he still needed me alive and purely just for that.

Harsh? Yeah. Making this up? I wish I was. The end of the world. In emergency room. Sitting on a chair in the hallway. The push to get me paranoid. Then a constant yelling of "Just kill yourself." Repeatedly told in my head by DJ. As did actually try and find a way to kill myself. There's nothing around. Then I saw the elevator. I could just jump off. Get caught by a nurse. Take the needle out of my arm and walk out of the emergency room. Get home still it hasn't ended. Like I said my mom and dad cold shoulder. I intentionally grab a bottle of pills in front of them and go to the bathroom.

The yelling between the two fucktards. Award to the biggest idiot in history of man goes to Donald Moncur. Felipe has on the spectrum excuse. What's yours?

Shitty connections.

Privileges. Do not worry. Like Pennywise the clown said I sing you the bro hym, bro.

Clowns to much. I don't. Gets way too obsessed. You thought I was being obsessive. Check out DJ. You might miss him since he's on the shorter side.

Narc, narc or narc. Yes

Loyalty to what to who? Only himself.

I am more white supremacist/Nazi than white Donald DJ. Does it upset you a Mexican saw all this and you didn't. Wasted money on useless tech. Useless advice on hired advisors. I really did want to tell you all this but we never got a chance to be alone. When we were I had already gone through years of working for months. So I would forget.

Cop narc, narco, and a narcissist, or a flying monkey. Yes.

Narco stuff I have no idea. Didn't care to help you out there. I've come to accept shit happens.

I die. I die. Whatever. My whole story and my work is out there.

I'm a fucking War Boy X

I live. I die. I live again.

Do tweakers and gossipers ever stop gossiping?

From what I saw no. Fuck your lives are boring as fuck. No wonder you people are constantly in problems. Only talking about others. There a lot of solutions to your problems in a lot of stories out there.

Go and watch Godzilla Minus One. My movie of the year for 2023. Survivors guilt. Many of you need to stop this bullshit.

"You fucken coward. You were supposed to die. Because of you my children died."

Heavy shit. A change of heart in the Japanese younger generation. Not so much the older generation.

https://youtu.be/r7DqccP1Q_4?si=1-94cYpZ2SeM1IIq

You all failed as parents. No one else's fault. Not the drugs, not the dealer, not the friends, not their partner, not God, not society. You both as parents failed your child. You are leaders. It's always the leaders fault if anything goes wrong. Of course use your fucken head and know when to recognize and realize some things are out your and other people's control. Still not living your happiness starts breeding bad energy not just in you but also the feeling of resentment in your family. That attracts the universe to certain disasters since whatever is in that area is not adapting and changing.

"I rather get wounded by a friend than to get a kiss from the enemy"

https://youtu.be/ymZ0d5j-e3k?si=VJnY7Xb6anca-VUC

[Side note: Kratos powers derives of Dynosis Tragedy. Mimir and Freya here are both partially lying to Kratos. It was just an emotional outburst. To something else. Perhaps just reliving a nightmare.

Kratos did have a hand in his illness but also later in the game their connection grew stronger. When Freya shows up again they both go into a defensive stance.]

Oh yeah back to DJ.

What do you look for in a sexual partner? Can you do the same for the sexual partner.

No.

Most of my dating profile says

"chill guy here. Go with the flow. Enjoy watching and jerking off to porn." Usually a welcome surprise.

He wants someone laid back. He isn't laid. Constantly on guard. Comes and goes quick. Non pushy just means someone who he can easily manipulate.

"Open minded but comfortable with who they are sexually."

That's a bit redundant.

Sucks. That I fit all these things he looks for in a sexual partner.

Feels like he was not attracted to me. Feels super weird just sitting there. Hardly anyone ever talked to me.

Watching the time go by. Into hours. Seeing him on cam4 early on was fun. Then it just fed into my insecurities. Why does he never do any of that with me?

Then it was just me breaking down in the bathroom. Again from the start I knew he was on cam4, seen him many times with other people, knew he enjoyed fucking around. It never hurt back then.

I hate how I have these flashes of memories of what I would do if we were in a relationship. So I write. That's all i can do. Living this fantasy. Because you were my little dreamer.

The right moment was forever long ago. I say that I am gone.

This next part I had already written in my journal.

The End Pearl Jam

We never had dreams. We never made plans. We never promised to be more than friends. For we have come and gone. We, well I've changed as does everything. Whether we notice it or not. I still want to grow old. I have. I have lived well beyond my mortal years in dreams And fantasies. Always finding myself in that well of hopeless nights. Spotless/Shy Prince by Zack Bryan/Lumineers/Lizandro Corazon.

Turn on the TV (The American Dream )

Act like you don't see me (I believe in you)

Tell me everything is okay

(I believe in me I believe in us)

My mother is a saint (Mother always a sinner)

And told me if I wait (Telling me I ain't a saint)

Everything meant to be will stay

Well I'm a believer

Let me walk this road alone

Call me a sinner

Just means I'm a believer

Fuck her prayers only filled me with aggression

I pray this lonely road stays

I aint spotless neither is you

For once in my life

I'm gonna see it through

If you want spotless ill always win

I want love lover I want the lie

All this time and all these lives just for him?!

Praying our Angels would come every hopeless night

Your heart knows deeper seasons than my eyes will ever know

I'm a self destructive land slide if you want to be the hill

(Just remember where i stood)

I aint spotless neither is you

For once In my life I'm gonna see it through

If you want to stay that's fine by me

Everything meant to be is bound to stay

Remember jumping in the pool when we was fully clothed in august

We were soaking choking smoking in my old shitty apartment

Well I'm a believer

Let me walk this road alone

Call me a sinner

Just means I'm a believer

I aint spotless neither is you

For once In my life

I'm going to see it through

If you want spotless, I'll always win

You gave me your love lover you gave me the lie

I was alone you were betting on a winner

I was calling your white lie

You held everyone to their word never to your own words

I can't stop this neither can you

For once in my life I'm down to see it through

If you want spotless I'll always win

You gave me your love lover you gave me the lie

Maybe there is no mistakes.

[casspurrjoybell-26]

May to December - Chapter 26 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

 Maybe Therapy

"I wonder if I would have met you if I didn't rush to leave town at eighteen," Kyle muttered.  

"What were you doing when you were eighteen?" Chaska asked.

"You know was just saying around..." he paused, shivering a bit.

"Saying awful men but you get the point."      

Kyle nodded, pulling away a bit so that he could look at Chaska's eyes.

The man had perfect lashes, and how neatly set his brows were always fascinated Chaska.      

"I did what I've always done. I worked as a mechanic," Kyle said, and Chaska narrowed his eyes at him.  

"No drinking..." Chaska bit his lower lip.

"No women?" he added quickly before he could feel self-conscious about asking.

Kyle knew a lot about his past dating life, so it was okay for him to ask too.  

"No, not really," Kyle muttered.

"I wasn't really doing anything or trying to have fun. I was just working."    

Chaska grunted.

"That's boring."    

"I know," Kyle smiled.  

 The younger man had a question that he chewed over for a bit before finding the courage to ask Kyle.

"How did you meet Anastasia?"  

"I fixed her car once and she kept coming back," Kyle laughed, thinking of the past with an attached fondness.      

Chaska laughed too as he reached out to brush the hair out of Kyle's face.      

"I get self-conscious about your ex-wife sometimes," Chaska muttered, surprised at his own honesty.

"As I've told you, I've always been a secret. A lot of my ex-boyfriends had girlfriends and wives..." Chaska trailed.

 "I'm not ashamed of dating them. I was just really desperate for a man to want me, so I..." Chaska paused, fighting with his own feelings of being part of the reason a few men had problems with their wives.

"They never choose me, so it hurt my confidence," he added, finally finding words to explain his feelings.      

"Every time you tell me about your exes, I want to beat the shit out of them," Kyle said and Chaska chuckled.  

"Well, that's why I haven't told you who they are," Chaska sighed, shivering a bit when Kyle's hand found its way into his jeans.

"They're everywhere and it makes me anxious to see them sometimes but for the most part, we just pretend like we don't know each other," Chaska said, thinking of the few men in town he used to date.    

 "If they ever give you trouble tell me," Kyle said, kissing the younger man's jaw.

"I can't fight for shit but I promise I'll give them a blow or two."    

Chaska laughed before his features tensed up and he moaned.

Kyle has moved his hand to the front and had begun to brush his hand against the head of his penis.

The man let out a sigh as Kyle zipped down the front of his trousers before doing the same to his.      

"I'm sorry, I got a little carried away," Kyle mused, using his hand to stroke them both.

"You're always so warm. I always want to touch you," the man said, feeling the both of them harden under the touch of his hand.    

"You know, I was very worried about if you'd like me enough to sleep with me," Chaska admitted.  

Kyle laughed.

"While all I could think of was how to get you to fuck me."

"Did you really think that?" Chaska asked, feeling his face warm up.

"Yeah," Kyle said, pressing a kiss to the man's lips.

"Once I even tried to touch myself down there while thinking of you but I got scared because I didn't know what I was doing," he laughed.

The recall of the memory was supposed to be funny but it made Chaska's lower stomach twist up with want.

Chaska sat up straight, pulling away from the man before moving his hands under Kyle's shirt.    

"I really want to do that now..." Chaska trailed.

He sounded shy, even though they'd done it dozens of times before.

Kyle found it adorable.  

"I don't smell great right now..." Kyle trailed, leaning forward so that he could kiss Chaska.

"But when we get to your apartment, sure," he muttered, against Chaska's lips before kissing him again.      

Chaska smelled like the icy rain from the winter and the paints and wallpaper glue they had been working with.

Chaska smelled like home.    

Kyle has gone to look for happiness in the city but it had been back home in peace river all along.

Chaska with his cold behavior and love for children.

The Chaska who loved him... the Chaska he loved back.    

He let out a small moan when the man sucked on his tongue and sighed into his mouth.

Kyle couldn't wait for them to start living together. 

[luesmainblog]

not a big addition, but noteworthy: during the time that Bisexuality was pushing to be recognized as a thing that existed, Asexuals/Monosexuals were often considered to be a part of that group, because our attraction to either sex was the same amount: 0! This is why you'll sometimes find old queens who are clearly ace but call themselves bi, and why Ace is occasionally considered to be under the bi umbrella. It took a long time for us to recognize and begin our own community! Bisexual was also used in some circles to describe a gender situation rather than your attraction; people who we would now consider genderflux, genderfluid, or bigender. And very recently, you had a bit of a revolution for Pansexual, some of it right here on tumblr! I got to watch it happen! Essentially, it was(and by many like myself, still is) considered one of the many labels under the larger umbrella term of Bisexual, and many were switching over at the time to show a general support of and attraction to trans people. At the time the conversation around transness was still pretty confused in a lot of directions, and a lot of this was younger queers who hadn't quite wrapped their head around the idea that trans people just WERE the gender they said. (this is, in part, due to trans history itself: there's a lot of pride in older transexuals as being something beyond simply man or woman, something grander, Better, more unique.) When pressed to explain what that meant, a lot of people who had a better grip on that concept were confused: why don't you just say bisexual? that's just being bi! this made a lot of pan people dig their heels in, and thus began a very long argument over which side was being transphobia(hint: y'all BOTH were), which title was okay to use(they both were), and whether or not using one and not the other Implied something about the other(it doesn't). this has unfortunately ended in a situation where Bi and Pan are considered two seperate labels, which seperates pan people from their history in that community and creates an unnecessary divide. as a panromantic myself, this is... Frustrating, to say the least. because that is the second time at least that my group's been kicked out of a label we have every right to(the other being when bisexuals were kicked out of being allowed to call themselves lesbians). When queer folk say that you're the only expert in your identity and you should let people ID how they want, even when it seems contradictory or confusing to you, this is what they're talking about. and it would be ill for any of us to assume that our own generation MUST have the best philosophy and anything older or younger oughta be dismissed outright. everyone comes into it on their own, and everyone vibes with their own story. I know that some people are scared by things getting too blended. you want your own space to discuss your specific experiences without having to worry about what people outside might think about it. and I get that! there's nothing wrong with creating small, private spaces that are exclusive. but there is one thing i want you to keep in mind, especially if you're feeling threatened by people outside of your experience using the same labels as you: 1. you'd be surprised how many people actually DO share that same shit, just in a slightly different way. oppressions is the same, and there's a lot of solidarity out there that you won't see if you stay holed up in an echo chamber. 2. wanting to be surrounded strictly by people just like you, mixed with the desire to police who does and doesn't get to use the label you've assigned yourself, is inherently fascist thinking. and it does not end well for you if you keep going. that is not a joke, nor an exaggeration; it is not Impossible for you to end up in what is essentially a death cult by following those desires too closely and letting them consume you. fascism is not just white supremecy, it latches on to basically any ideal that allows it.

So what I’ve learned from the past couple months of being really loud about being a bi woman on Tumblr is: A lot of young/new LGBT+ people on this site do not understand that some of the stuff they’re saying comes across to other LGBT+ people as offensive, aggressive, or threatening. And when they actually find out the history and context, a lot of them go, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I never meant to say that.”

Like, “queer is a slur”: I get the impression that people saying this are like… oh, how I might react if I heard someone refer to all gay men as “f*gs”. Like, “Oh wow, that’s a super loaded word with a bunch of negative freight behind it, are you really sure you want to put that word on people who are still very raw and would be alarmed, upset, or offended if they heard you call them it, no matter what you intended?”

So they’re really surprised when self-described queers respond with a LOT of hostility to what feels like a well-intentioned reminder that some people might not like it. 

That’s because there’s a history of “political lesbians”, like Sheila Jeffreys, who believe that no matter their sexual orientation, women should cut off all social contact with men, who are fundamentally evil, and only date the “correct” sex, which is other women. Political lesbians claim that relationships between women, especially ones that don’t contain lust, are fundamentally pure, good, and  unproblematic. They therefore regard most of the LGBT community with deep suspicion, because its members are either way too into sex, into the wrong kind of sex, into sex with men, are men themselves, or somehow challenge the very definitions of sex and gender. 

When “queer theory” arrived in the 1980s and 1990s as an organized attempt by many diverse LGBT+ people in academia to sit down and talk about the social oppressions they face, political lesbians like Jeffreys attacked it harshly, publishing articles like “The Queer Disappearance of Lesbians”, arguing that because queer theory said it was okay to be a man or stop being a man or want to have sex with a man, it was fundamentally evil and destructive. And this attitude has echoed through the years; many LGBT+ people have experience being harshly criticized by radical feminists because being anything but a cis “gold star lesbian” (another phrase that gives me war flashbacks) was considered patriarchal, oppressive, and basically evil.

And when those arguments happened, “queer” was a good umbrella to shelter under, even when people didn’t know the intricacies of academic queer theory; people who identified as “queer” were more likely to be accepting and understanding, and “queer” was often the only label or community bisexual and nonbinary people didn’t get chased out of. If someone didn’t disagree that people got to call themselves queer, but didn’t want to be called queer themselves, they could just say “I don’t like being called queer” and that was that. Being “queer” was to being LGBT as being a “feminist” was to being a woman; it was opt-in.

But this history isn’t evident when these interactions happen. We don’t sit down and say, “Okay, so forty years ago there was this woman named Sheila, and…” Instead we queers go POP! like pufferfish, instantly on the defensive, a red haze descending over our vision, and bellow, “DO NOT TELL ME WHAT WORDS I CANNOT USE,” because we cannot find a way to say, “This word is so vital and precious to me, I wouldn’t be alive in the same way if I lost it.” And then the people who just pointed out that this word has a history, JEEZ, way to overreact, go away very confused and off-put, because they were just trying to say.

But I’ve found that once this is explained, a lot of people go, “Oh wow, okay, I did NOT mean to insinuate that, I didn’t realize that I was also saying something with a lot of painful freight to it.”

And that? That gives me hope for the future.