#if there is a problem with me you tell me and we work on it together. you do not just decide to train me like a dog.
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lizardho · 2 days ago
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I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.
The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.
So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.
My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.
This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.
My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.
Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”
That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.
We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.
The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.
I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ❤️
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caught-tumbling · 10 hours ago
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A diagnosis means access to treatment. Before I was diagnosed with POTS I was just fainting constantly and no one knew why or how to make it stop. Because I have a diagnosis I have a way to make my symptoms manageable.
A diagnosis means community. I can find people who share my ADHD experience and I don't feel as alone or like I'm crazy.
A diagnosis means knowledge and strategies. Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome doesn't have a cure but I have found a million shortcuts, products, and strategies to make my life easier. If I didn't have a diagnosis I wouldn't know where to begin and I would be far more disabled than I currently am.
A diagnosis means medical safety. My doctors know to take a different approach with me because of my Ehlers-Danlos. My anesthesiologist knows I won't react normally to anesthetic, my surgeon knows to stitch me up differently to accommodate my fragile skin, my physical therapist knows to offer me more support to keep me from hyperextending my joints, etc. Before I had a diagnosis medical staff accidentally hurt me because they didn't have that vital info. (Unfortunately a stigmatized diagnosis can work against you so it can be a downside as well but that's for an individual to decide)
A diagnosis means accommodations. Many workplaces, government organizations, and private companies require proof of diagnosis rather than proof of symptoms. So if you don't have an explanation for your symptoms you're out of luck.
A diagnosis means validation. I was told my fainting was anxiety, that my chronic pain was in my head, that my bipolar depression was because of my period, even though none of that made sense. But if enough "experts" tell you that your experiences are wrong.... you start to believe them. You start to wonder if you can trust yourself. The test came back normal, the doctor says I'm fine, I don't know anyone else that has this problem, maybe I don't actually have a problem at all. Maybe I'm making it up, maybe I just need to tough it out, maybe I'm "doing this" for attention like they say. And that seriously fucks with your head especially if it happens for years. A diagnosis says that you're not crazy, you're not making it up, you were right. I cannot overstate the relief of knowing that you can actually trust yourself
Many people view a diagnosis as if you go in for a normal checkup and are given a cancer diagnosis out of the blue. And yeah that happens, but most of us KNEW there was something wrong we just didn't have a name for it. The name itself doesn't hurt you. But lacking that name can kill you
I don't think healthy people realize how for chronically ill people getting a diagnosis isn't sad or even disappointing for us, it's a relief and a vindication. So many people with chronic illnesses take many years to get diagnosed, and are told that 'it's just anxiety/your period/psychological' or that we're exaggerating or that everyone experiences that, so for us getting a diagnosis is being told that we weren't faking it and that this wasn't normal and it's also finally knowing what exactly is going on in our bodies.
I think many healthy people think of it as if it were them being told they have this lifelong debilitating illness, and they would feel awful because they are going from perfectly healthy to disabled, but they don't fully realize that we already have all the symptoms and impacts of said chronic illness and that we are just finally finding out the name, and that knowing what it is means that we have access to more treatments and more knowledge as to what we can to do alleviate our symptoms.
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arc-misadventures · 2 days ago
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A Schnee's Desire
Weiss: So, is alright of my team, and my friends stay here mom?
Willow: I don't mind, your father will no doubt work up a fuss, but he will not be here for the next week, so you should be just fine.
Weiss: That's amazing! I'll go tell them that they can stay.
Willow: Mind if I come with you? I want to know who is going to be staying here.
Weiss: Okay.
~~~
Weiss: Okay this is my partner, Ruby Rose.
Ruby: Hello! My name is Ruby! I'm Weiss's bestie for restie!
Weiss: Ahh?! Get off of me you dolt!
Willow: Ohh~! It's nice to see my daughter have a friend who's so close to her. Would you mind sharing a room with my daughter? There are not many spare bed rooms for all of you.
Weiss: Wait, w-w-what?!
Ruby: Whoo! Sleep over!
Weiss: Ahck?! Get off of me!
Willow: And, who are you two?
Blake: My name is, Blake Belladonna.
Yang: And, my name is Yang Xiao Long! This little gremlins older sister!
Ruby: Yang?!
Willow: And, you are a faunas? A cat faunas at that.
Blake: Is that a problem...?
Willow: Not to me, although... Jacques is allergic to cats... You being a cat faunas, would you perhaps trigger his allergies?
Blake: What, no that's...? Well... Could I...?
Yang: That's a serious question right there.
Blake: If he did have a reaction... how bad of a reaction would it be.
Willow: Not bad enough...
Blake: Dammit!
Willow: Do you two mind sharing a bed?
Yang: What?
Blake: Sharing a bed?
Willow: There are rooms, and spare beds, but not enough for each of you to have your own separate bed. I am sorry.
Yang: No, that shouldn't be a problem, right, Blake?
Blake: No, not a problem at all. Hey, Yang?
Yang: Yeah?
Blake: 'And, they were roommates.'
Ruby: 'My god they were roommates...'
Willow: What?
Weiss: Ignore them.
Willow: Very well then. And, who might you two be?
Nora: Hi! My name is, Nora! And, this is my potentiallover, Ren!
Ren: Hello, Mrs. Schnee.
Willow: Hello to you as. Do you two mind sharing a room, and a bed together?
Ren: Well, I don't...?!
Nora: IT'S FINE!
Willow: Oh?
Nora: It's totally fine if the two of use share a bed together~!
Willow: Is it..?
Ren: Uhhhh...?
Yang: Don't stop her, she needs this.
Willow: Okay...?
Willow: And, lastly we have... Oh? Hello~!
Jaune: Hello, Mrs. Schnee. My, name is, Jaune Arc.
Willow: Hello~! So, I have a bed you can use, so long as you don't mind some company~?
Jaune: Am I sharing a bed with your son?
Willow: No, no no not at all. I couldn't possibly ask my son to share his bed! But, I can assure you, the person in question wouldn't mind sharing their bed with you~!
Jaune: Oh well, if they won't mind, then neither do I!
Willow: I assure you, Jaune, I won't mind at all~! Now, why don't I show you to your room~!
Jaune: Why thank you, Mrs. Schnee!
Willow: Ara Ara, Jaune! Please, call me, Willow~!
Jaune: Okay then, Willow!
RWBYNR: ...?
Ruby: D-Did your mother just flirt with, Jaune?
Weiss: N-no she didn't....
Nora: She totally flirted with, Jaune!
Weiss: She did not!
Yang: Did you not see how she's draped all over him!
Weiss: No I didn't...!
Blake: She literally said, 'Ara Ara,' to him!
Weiss: You misheard her!
Whitely: Hello sister. I saw mother leading on of your friends to her bedroom. Why did she do that?
Weiss: W-What?
Ren: Weiss... it's time to face the truth...
Weiss: ...
Weiss: Oh gods... My mom is going to fuck, Jaune?!
Nora: It's totally the hair.
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biting-miguel-ohara · 1 day ago
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Holiday Blues - Wade Wilson x bunny mutant!Reader x Logan Howlett
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A/N: *deep breath in; deep breath out* there are so many things about this fic that I despise. I want to put so many disclaimers about bad writing or sloppy endings or heavy angst. But I said I’d post it if there was interest so here we are. However, THIS IS NOT MY BEST WORK!!! I really just wrote it as a way to channel my anxiety, so if it’s shitty or just bad I won’t be surprised
No taglist for this one
Reader is vaguely implied to be ftm trans during one paragraph of the fic. But it also can be read as a cis male!Reader too
There are a lot of internalized feelings in this, some toxic masculinity, and other uncomfy things. Please read all the warnings and take them seriously before reading
Also, very important. While it’s never directly stated in the fic, I wrote this Reader based off my experiences with RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria). However, there’s a lot more going on with me than just that, so I do have to say this is only indicative of my experiences, not experiences with this as a whole. Other things may have crept in as well, simply by the nature of basing this off of me
CW: Reader is dating both Logan and Wade; Reader loves the holidays; Reader comes from a family with holiday traditions; Logan comes off as a bit rude, but it’s for reasons I don’t elaborate on; Reader is a bunny mutant; Reader is sensitive to rejection; Reader spirals fast in this; angst; anxiety; panic; hiding; Reader is hit with a lot of emotions all at once; negative thought spirals; internalized emotions; toxic masculinity moments; crying; humiliation; shame; guilt; Reader’s family is mentioned as a guilt trip; comfort seeking; more shame; there’s lots of shame in this one; prey instincts contributing to the negativity; hugging; comfort; problems are not addressed; Reader bounces back fast; Wade gets Reader’s brain; Wade has implied mental health issues as well; soft moments; quick ending; mild allusions to sexy things; god this reads so bad; okay, here are my disclaimers: bad writing, vent writing, fast-paced writing, sudden ending, and highly-charged emotional states from the Reader
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It’s no secret among your boyfriends that you love the holidays. Any chance you can get you’re constantly hanging up decorations, planning parties, and preparing food,
It’s some of the few times a year you truly come alive when doing something. It’s your time of the year. Holidays have always been your thing.
It’s tradition, from growing up in your burrow. Everyone would help out, making the holidays a time of family fun and chaos and celebration.
So when you come home to Wade decorating your apartment, you immediately want to help. You’ve barely taken off your sweater before you’re bouncing up to him. “What can I do?”
He gives you a grin, gesturing to the kitchen. “Ask Wolvie. He’s been baking all day.”
It both excites and confuses you. You’re not hosting any parties or going to an event today. So what’s going on?
Still, you head into the kitchen. Logan’s working on a pie, carefully making a beautiful lattice of crust on top.
You place a kiss on his cheek. “Can I help?”
“Ask Wade.”
His answer is short. Quick. To the point. Almost brusque even. You know he’s just concentrating, but it still makes you falter. “Um… alright.”
You head back to Wade, but he just gives you a shrug. “Sorry, handsome, but I think we got it.”
You stand there for a moment before nodding and heading into the bedroom.
You sit on the bed, staring at your hands. Normally, you’d just brush off their responses and find something else to do. But it’s the holidays. You’re supposed to be out there helping.
Their rejection of your help hurts more than you care to admit.
But it’s stupid. It’s just decorations and food. They’ve got it all covered.
You try to tell yourself that, but the hurt still wells up in your chest. You can feel it rising, making your breathing quicken. You grip one of your bunny ears, stroking it in an attempt to calm yourself down. It’s what Wade always does.
Maybe you did something to offend them? Or maybe they were trying to surprise you and you ruined it by coming home early?
You try to think of anything and everything as a reason for their dismissals. It has to be something. It has to be.
Anxiety spikes in your chest and you burrow under the covers. It feels comforting, like you’re back in your home warren for a moment. You curl into a ball, tucking your knees to your chest.
You count your breaths, struggling to slow the beat of your heart. But it’s no real use. The wave of emotions is already here. It crashes into you, drowning you in reasons why and what you did wrong. Over and over, your thoughts spiral.
Your eyes prickle, but you refuse to cry. The only thing worse than feeling like this is having Wade and Logan think you’re dumb for it. You’re a man. You can handle it.
You press your palms to your eyes, but the wetness still seeps out. You can handle it. You can handle it. You can handle it.
You don’t sob. Thankfully. You just cry in silence. Stuttered breaths in and out. In and out. It feels humiliating. You, crying while your boyfriends decorate.
You should be better than this. You should be better than this now. What would your family think if they saw you crying instead of celebrating?
That thought only adds to the shame in your chest and you scrunch up even tighter. You’re not some dumb flopsy bunny anymore. You’re a rabbit. A man. Crying is for flopsy bunnies.
The thoughts continue. Eventually, your silent crying turns to soft hiccups. Your tears dry up, leaving your eyes puffy and itchy.
You don’t get up until you hear the timer ringing in the kitchen. Logan’s pie is done. You can smell it. Apple. Your favorite.
Slowly, you uncurl yourself. You crawl out from beneath the blankets. You change into a pair of boxers and one of Wade’s sweaters. Your comfort outfit. You know it’ll be a tell that something’s wrong, but you need the safety of the fabric.
You open the door to the bedroom and shuffle out. No Wade. You hear him in the kitchen.
You take a moment to use the bathroom. To stare dully at your reflection in the mirror and splash water on your face to try and reduce the puffiness. It… sort of works.
Wade’s knock on the door has you startling. “Oh, bunny boy! Dinner’s ready!”
You flinch, curling into yourself a little. They’re gonna know you were crying. They’re gonna know you were upset over something so stupid. They’re gonna think you’re dumb.
You’re shaking as you open the door. You know it’s your prey instincts. Programmed to carry you away, to keep you safe from any harm. But that doesn’t make it feel any better.
Wade blinks at you as you emerge. His whole body seems to soften. “Hey… What’s wrong?”
He’s always so soft with you whenever you’re upset. Occasionally silly, but so soft. Sometimes you love it. Right now it just makes the pit of guilt in your chest bigger.
“Nothing…” you mumble.
He frowns, but pulls you into a hug. It helps. It loosens the ball of shame, slowly soothing it apart. You take a deep breath and hug him back.
“Everything alright?” Logan, from the kitchen doorway.
You think Wade gives him a look, or maybe he just picks up on the clothes you’re wearing. Either way, you’re enfolded in another set of arms.
“Hey, bunny. What’s wrong?” Logan’s often gentle too. It helps you relax the last bit of the way, the knot in your chest finally unraveling.
“Just… my brain…” You’re now more embarrassed than anything. Why would they think you’re dumb? They’ve always been understanding and loving, especially with you.
Wade strokes one of your bunny ears, the action immediately calming your frayed emotions. Bringing back your peace of mind. “Being a bully again, huh?”
You nod.
Logan rubs your back, his touch gentler than normal. “Was it something we said?”
Damn his perceptiveness. You were hoping to get out of this without an explanation.
You sigh and rest your forehead on Wade’s shoulder. “I just… I wanna help too…”
There’s a moment of silence, then Wade hums. “You can wrap the gift I got Wolvie. It was supposed to be a surprise, but it’s the last thing to do.”
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your entire self perks up at the idea. You grin, already straightening up. “You mean it? I can help?”
Logan chuckles while Wade matches your grin. “Absolutely, handsome! But first…”
He takes your hands and gives them a squeeze. “Let’s eat. You’ll feel much better once you have food in you. The surprise can wait for later.”
Logan agrees and you give in quickly.
Dinner goes by fast and soon you’re in the bedroom again, this time with a box and gift wrap in your hands. You focus on wrapping the present as Wade sits on the bed. Logan’s busy with food clean up, bustling away in the kitchen.
“We'll always love you,” Wade says, startling you from your task. You look up at him. “What?”
“Whatever your brain says while you’re upset. It’s not true.” He looks at you intently. “We love you.”
You swallow and look down. With anyone else, you’d protest. But you know him. You know him. He’s speaking more than just to comfort you right now.
“I love you too,” you say quietly. “Even on your bad days, I love you too.”
His shoulders relax but his gaze stays on you. He doesn’t say anything more though. He just watches you. It’s a little intimidating, but you let him.
You finish wrapping the box and place a nice big bow on the top. “Done.”
Wade smiles. His expression soft once more. It relieves a burden off your shoulders in some way. Some lingering guilt or whatever weighing you down.
You love him. He loves you. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know he gets your mind almost as well as you do. He struggles with his brain too.
You hold out the box to him, a silent acknowledgment of each other in the air. He takes it, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re adorable in my sweater, you know that?”
It pulls a laugh out of you, lightening the air. “Yeah. I know. Why do you think I wear it all the time?”
He smiles. “Careful, buns. You know how your sassiness gets me going.”
You roll your eyes and grin. “Yeah, yeah.”
You eye the wrapped box in his hands, a spark of curiosity in your mind. “What’s in there anyway? And what’re we celebrating in the first place?”
Wade smirks. “We’re celebrating us. And this?” He shakes the box a little. “This is for later. Consider it my gift to you and Wolvie.”
Celebrating us. The idea warms you like nothing else. Nothing else seems to matter except that. They planned a small thing just to celebrate you and them.
You lean in and kiss Wade. “Thank you. For all of it.”
He softens despite himself, his smile turning warm. “Hey, don’t thank me yet. Wolvie still hasn’t opened his gift yet. Thank me then.”
But he seems to understand. For a moment. Before he smacks your ass lightly and points towards the kitchen. “Let’s go, buns. The Readers and Wolvie can’t wait for the ending forever.”
You blink, but don’t question his words. He’ll explain eventually. For now, you’re just ready to enjoy some pie and find out what’s in Wade’s gift.
After all, knowing him, it’s probably something raunchy. And you could do with something a little stronger than cuddles.
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tillinghastcorporatemedia · 21 hours ago
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A lot of this as true but as a cis guy who's been assumed to be queer since before i knew i was queer and has long hair, which normally wouldnt even be something i'd bring up, but this is something ive experienced due to being really short and having long hair but i wanna refer to number 3
3. That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men.
Idk if you've had to be around these fucks but let me tell you, men like this act like im not a man. every day i wear a mask i get called maam even when ive got a beard spilling out of the edges of my mask. (got called mamacita at a taco truck the other day while having to pick up a dashing order. thats new) But growing up, i was the punching bag. Didnt matter if i was agreeing with everything they said, did, or even hyped them up. I was the punching bag. Ive had my hair lit on fire while driving, beat up multiple times, bullied until i started fighting back. you could say it was just shitty high school guys but then we get into adulthood. When you become older but still dont even clear the national average men dont look at you the same. im still a target to these people just because of my look, and not even the hair. I got assaulted, by a straight man, while i was checking the oil in my car. My hair wasnt down, wasnt wearing feminine clothing, doing autowork checks. And guess what when i freaked out because some random guy came up behind me and started grabbing at my chest he backed up and then freaked out i was a guy and was threatening to beat me up because i was "tricking him" call me a coward i just ran off. You can call out your friends sure, and sometimes it might work in a social group setting. but i guarantee you youll just stop getting invited instead of behavior being corrected. this is said already but the men these men listen to arent gonna do this, and you might be able to change some minds with words. But as someone who pays attention to shit, words dont do shit. actions do though. if you wanna fix this problem its not gonna be the tiny little gay guy these men wanna beat the shit out of that they are gonna listen to.
at some point something else but words is gonna have to be done and as a man i wish i could figure something out but because of both my sexuality and my unchangeable features of my body im basically excluded by most any "masculine" guys.
I dont have an answer, i wish i did but i dont
But i will say its gonna take actions, not just words, for these sacks of patriarchal dung to take themselves to the trash can or clean themselves up.
If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.
"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.
Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.
Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.
You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."
Problem with that being:
1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.
2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.
3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.
4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.
I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.
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inkdrinkerworld · 3 days ago
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for the nutcracker; enemies to lovers with Logan Howlett please?
Of course the Professor would do this. Of course he’d trap you in the house with Logan with nothing else to do but wrap the gifts for the kids.
You two are always at each other’s throats, trading threats and bruises and making each other's lives miserable.
It seems the good old Professor has had enough.
“Oh of course,” he mutters as he brings down the gifts and finds you rolling out the wrapping paper. “You’re here.”
You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to be such an ass. The faster we finish, the faster we’ll have nothing to do with each other.”
Logan grunts, biting his cheek as he watches you grab some of the smaller gifts and section how much paper they’d need.
“Does your age give you a staring problem, Howlett?” You grit out as you set the wrapped box to the side and grab another one.
“You’re a piece of work, kid.”
You roll your eyes and say nothing after that, focused on the task at hand: wrapping gifts and pissing Logan off.
Logan’s on his own mission though, a mission of not staring at you while you focus and your tongue pokes out from the corner of your lip as you measure the paper perfectly.
He can’t help it, for as much as you piss him off, he likes you ten times as much. It messes with his head most certainly, but he can tell you get just as much enjoyment as he does.
“You want a beer?”
You gag, Logan smiles as he twists the cap off one and drains nearly half of it.
“You can make me a hot chocolate with extra of the crunchy marshmallows as you’re standing.”
He gets it right on the first try, but he’s a little light handed on the whipped cream lest you think he’s in love with you.
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confiaenanaa · 2 days ago
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Can I request an angsty one where the reader and Marshall/Em/Slim (whichever you prefer) they have an argument and at one point he tells her he doesn't need her, he can have whoever he wants and they won't complain about anything like she does. And obviously she feels hurt bc it's always been an insecurity of hers that he could have anyone. And he just confirmed her fear. Hopefully with a happy ending tho🙏🏻❤️ please and thank you! Sorry it's so long lol.
needed - eminem
fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers
masterlist
synopsis: Marshall says he doesn't need her, but what does he do when he doesn't have her?
warnings: cursing, drinking
A/N: loved this request! very fun to write. if you guys want anything written, my asks are open. hope you enjoy!
-Fuck you! 
-Oh, piss off!
Shouts could be heard from the Mathers residence that night. Y/N and Marshall were arguing over something stupid, again. They seemed to be having these arguments more and more often these days. This time, however, they were arguing over Marshall’s lack of communication. He’d have a bad day, be rude to Y/N, and when she’d ask what was wrong he’d blow up at her without telling her what bothered him. Today it seemed like he’d had an extra bad day. 
He got home from the studio later than usual. Y/N was reasonably worried, and when she called, he wouldn’t answer. So, once he got home, she asked him a ton of questions; questions like “where were you?” “what happened?” “are you alright?”. This angered him to no end since he hates explaining himself to people.
He refused to answer questions. Y/N knew he’d probably just had a rough day so she decided to make him his favorite home-cooked meal and some hot cocoa and treat him to a lovely night at home. But, when she brought him his food and drink, he just told her he wasn’t hungry, even after seeing all the effort she was putting in for him. 
That’s when something inside of her just snapped. She set the plate and mug on the table fecklessly, spilling some cocoa in the process. Marshall seemed a bit startled, knowing Y/N doesn’t usually throw fits like this and she usually keeps her temper in check. 
-God, Marsh! Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you? I’ve tried so hard to find out what’s wrong, and you won’t tell me! What happened to me being your #1 and your best friend? And come on! Look at this meal I made for you! Can’t you see how badly I want you to let me help you? 
-Fuck! I’m sorry I’m not living up to your boyfriend standards, Y/N! But, clearly, I had a rough day so just drop it! 
-You know what Marshall? I have bad days too! But you don’t see me bitching about it and acting like a little kid every time something doesn’t go my way! And even when I do feel upset, I tell you what’s wrong! Because I actually care about your feelings and I wouldn’t want you to worry!
- Oh, so, now I don’t care?! All I ever do is care about you Y/N! I write songs about you, I buy you everything you look at to make you happy, not to mention I make you feel pretty damn good!
- It’s not about that Marsh! God, are you even listening to me?! I don’t care that you’re upset, or that you’re in a bad mood or feeling mean; I just want you to tell me! I want you to communicate with me! I want us to work through our problems calmly, without me having to shout to get your attention!
-You always say that, but you never actually do it! Whenever you’re upset you just stay quiet! So don’t go telling me how to deal with my problems because you sure as hell don’t know how to deal with yours!
-Fuck you!
-Oh, piss off!
-Fuck, Marsh! This isn’t about me! We can work through what I do, but you seriously need to stop! 
-Stop it, Y/N! Stop already! If everything I do is so terrible and wrong, then why not just break up with me already? 
-Because I love you! I care so much about you and I just wish you could see it.
-You’re just saying that because you know I don’t need your ass. You know I can get with whoever the hell I want and they won't criticize me or complain about everything I do half as much as you do!
Y/N stayed silent for a bit. Her heart dropped and she could feel the lump develop in her throat. All this time she was with Marshall, she’d had her insecurities. But, he helped her work through them slowly. He helped her make sure she knew he’d never hurt her like that.
But, now, all that hard work was out the window. With those simple words. The tears began to prick her eyes and she looked down at the floor to try and conceal it. She felt like a little girl being yelled at. She felt helpless, and small. The man who was supposed to love her the most, to protect her, had failed her. He made her feel alone.
Marshall instantly felt a wave of regret wash over him. He felt it surge from his mind up to the tips of his ears down to the points of his toes. He looked at the girl he loves, knowing how badly he just hurt her. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing he’d gone too far and he didn’t mean it; but, before he could, she had walked past him and into their bedroom. He quickly turned on his heels to follow her. 
Y/N was grabbing a few of her things: a hoodie, her phone charger, some gum, her earbuds, and some shoes. He once again tried to apologize but she wouldn’t hear it. He followed her all the way down to the garage and watched as she hopped in her car and sped off. He wasn’t sure where she was going, and, to be honest, neither was she. 
She hated herself for complaining and she hated him for being so mean to her. But, deep down, she knew she loved him more than anything and everything. She gripped her steering wheel harder, and turned up the volume of the song she was listening to. 
She pulled into the parking lot for some random bar she heard of from one of her friends. Her friend said it was the best place to go if you’re feeling sad or having a rough night. 
When she walked in, the bar looked exactly how she felt. It was dimly lit, the smell reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. There were barely enough people to call a crown in there, all sitting far apart with a drink in hand. Everyone looked glum in there, so she’d blend right in. She sat at the bar and ordered herself a few shots of rum. She downed them quickly, not feeling much different. She then ordered herself a vodka, which she kept refilling until the bartender just gave her the bottle. 
She kept feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She assumed it was Marshall. She didn’t really want to respond, but she still looked, just in case. It was actually a text from her best friend asking what happened. Of course. Marshall texted her friend to see if Y/N was okay (since she usually goes to her best friend in times of need). Y/N decided not to answer, she was in more of a “fuck the world” kind of mood.
She set her phone down on the counter, finally feeling the effects of the alcohol. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get home or if she was going to get home at all. Before she could continue that thought, she saw a series of texts, making her phone buzz repeatedly. 
The contact name read “marsh :)”. She truly didn’t want to speak to him at the moment. She wasn’t sure why what he said affected her this way, but it did, and he knew that. She knew she was probably just being sensitive, but she couldn’t help but feel attacked. 
She looked at her phone again and saw Marshall’s concerned text chain.
“hello?”
“babyyy??”
“look baby i’m so sorry i know i messed up big time. please call me back so i can fix this.”
She didn’t bother reading the rest. She got more texts from him and her best friend. They seemed really concerned now. It was unlike Y/N, not answering the phone. It was cold, far too cold for someone of her character. However, Y/N wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to care about her character. She was too busy trying to keep her head upright as her vision blurred a bit from the effects of the white russian she was creating in her stomach at the moment. From that point forward, she couldn’t really recollect anything that had happened. The next thing she knew, she felt a pair of strong arms lifting her up by the waist and into their arms bridal-style. 
The next day, Y/N woke up in her bed alongside a snoring Marshall that had his arms wrapped around her tightly. She slowly shimmied out of his embrace, head beginning to pound when she stood up. She went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a small tonic for hangovers in hand. 
As she was washing the cup she was just using, Y/N heard a set of booming footsteps as they pounded against the wooden staircase. She turned around to look at Marshall. He looked incredible. His hair was a bit tousled and his eyes and lips were puffy. He came down and approached her without a second thought. The first thing he did was put his lips against hers. The kiss was warm, brilliant. 
Y/N crumpled under his touch. He pulled back and smiled slightly at her. His heart grew seeing her in front of him. He smiled even wider when he saw her smile back; however, he knew he wasn’t forgiven just yet. 
-Wait, look, I gotcha something.
He quickly walked into the living room and grabbed a small box and turned to the kitchen.
-I bought this a while ago. I wanted to give it to you somewhere better but this seemed like the right time.
Y/N opened the little box gingerly, a little nervous to see its contents. Her jaw dropped a tad when she saw it. 
A small ring, diamond encrusted and the exact type of metal she wears. It was perfectly tailored to her tastes. She looked up at him, eyebrow slightly raised.
-It’s a promise ring. I know what I said last night was fucked up but I didn’t mean it at all. I love you more than anything and you know that. I could never be with anyone else knowing that you’re out there in the world. 
He took the ring out of the box and secured it onto her finger. He then kissed her hand softly. She smiled taking in the view.
Then, she knew, more than anything, that she was truly loved.
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zigrethsnotebook · 3 days ago
Text
[SHOULDER KISS]
Ford x Reader
words: 2,846
tags: sfw, toothrotting fluff, non-sexual nudity
a/n: this is so devastatingly self-indulgent,, pls don't judge me. But also, this is for all of you who said there aren't enough Ford fics out there <3
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Winter. Snow was falling, but it wasn’t soft. The winds were strong and managed to blow snow in your face no matter which way you turned or how much you covered it up. This was supposed to be a short and simple hike through the woods with Ford. When you had left the house this morning it had been just that, with snow falling softly and all. But now the weather had turned like it held a grudge against you two personally.
The twins had decided to have a little break on their sea adventure for the holidays and while Stan decided to visit the kids and Shermie, Ford had decided to come home to you. Even Soos and his Abuelita had left to spend this time of the year with Melody and her family, meaning you and Ford had the Shack all to yourselves. It also meant that there was nobody home to make sure the Shack stayed warm while you two were out.
Finally, you had made it back to the Shack, and when Ford opened the door you quickly got inside, spreading snow across the floor. You shivered as you took off your snow-laden coat and shoes, the cold having seeped inside your very bones.
Ford wasn’t much better off - his nose and cheeks burned a bright red and his eyebrows and eyelashes had little white crystals hanging off of them. He was a human furnace of a man, but even he was shivering now, rubbing his hands along his arms to generate a little warmth.
“We need to warm up as quickly as possible, I don’t want to risk either of us getting hypothermia. You should go and take a hot bath while I’ll put more wood in the furnace so the house can warm back up. I’ll take a bath after you’re done.”
You shook your head. “Sorry, won’t work. While you were gone we had some problems with the hot water. Now there’s only enough hot water for one hot bath or shower at a time.”
“Oh.” Ford’s eyes darted around the room for a moment, trying to find a solution. “Then I guess I’ll just get some extra blankets and try to warm up like that.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Or you could just take the bath with me. That way we won’t risk either of us getting sick?”
You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, Ford on the other hand could feel the heat rising to his face even more now, his turtleneck suddenly feeling a little tight around his neck. It wasn’t a secret that Ford was… uncomfortable when it came to nudity.
During your few months of relationship with the man the furthest you had gotten was one very fun make-out session where, in the heat of the moment, Ford had pulled your shirt over your head and immediately turned bright red at the sight of you. You had pulled him back in with a smile but when you tried to pull his turtleneck off of him as well he had pulled away, ending the moment abruptly.
You had tried to talk to him about it afterwards and he had confessed that he felt incredibly self-conscious about his own body after all the things Bill and his time hopping dimensions had done to it. After lots of kind words and soft kisses he had hugged you and shown you the scars around his wrists from the chains Bill had kept him in.
But none of that mattered now and you hoped he knew you wouldn’t think worse of him for any of it. You just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t get sick. “No. You go.” You could tell he was trying to sound determined, but his own shivering wouldn’t quite let him.
You shook your head. “You take a bath, I’ll get some blankets.” Ford looked at you with pleading eyes. “I won’t take a bath before you. Either we take one together-” You had to pause as a more intense shiver overcame you. You continued with chattering teeth. “-or I’ll take one after you.”
“But you just said-” The look on your face was unwavering, he couldn’t win this one. With a sigh he agreed. “Okay. You get the bath ready. I’ll take care of the furnace, then I’ll meet you there. Does that sound good?” You nodded and quickly made your way to the bathroom.
Ford felt silly for being afraid of your reaction to his body. He was a normal guy! Apart from the six fingers of course, but you had shown him again and again that you loved that part of him. Why would this be any different? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of all those negative thoughts as he placed another log in the fire.
With every step he now took towards the bathroom he could feel his heart hammering stronger and louder inside his chest. He was about to reach for the doorknob when he stilled in his movement. There was something he hadn’t even considered. He would also get to see you naked.
Ford’s cheeks, after having cooled down a little, now turned tomato red again. No. No, he couldn’t do this. He was just about to turn around when the door in front of him opened. “Ford? Why are you just standing there? Come in.” You gently took his hand that was still hanging outstretched in the air and guided him inside the room.
The bathroom had already begun to heat up a little through the warm water evaporating and filling the air. You quickly closed the door behind him, shivering again as you felt the fresh air entering the room. Ford just stood there, unable to move, just watching you as you moved around the room, getting shampoos and towels ready and finally turning off the water.
You turned to Ford. The crystals on his eyebrows and lashes had melted away, but his face was still flushed and he looked very tense. You moved over to him, gently put your hands on his arms and looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ford. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. I want you to know that I’m as worried about your health as you are about mine, but if you leave now I won’t judge you for that or think any worse of you.”
One of your hands found his cheek and he instinctively leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and brought his own hand up to yours, moved it to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to your wrist. “I’ll stay.” You smiled and when he let go of your hand you moved back towards the bathtub, taking your sweatshirt off in one swift movement.
Ford watched your movements with awe. You turned to face him again and he struggled to focus on your eyes. It made you smile - you thought it was adorable how much he wanted to stay a true gentleman, even though you were more than okay with him checking you out properly.
“Suggestion: I get in first. Then, if you’re not comfortable with me seeing you naked I’ll close my eyes while you get in as well. How does that sound to you?” Ford couldn’t help but smile at how considerate you were and also admire you for your self-confidence. “Sounds perfect.”
You nodded and quickly started undressing further, looking forward to the warm water thawing your tense muscles. Ford quickly averted his eyes which earned him a quiet chuckle from you, but you didn’t say anything. When you were done, you carefully stepped inside the tub and sighed as the warm water engulfed your shivering body.
The way it was now the water reached to just above your nipples. But, knowing Ford, you had made sure to create enough foam, so you couldn’t see through the water, leaving just your shoulders and upwards visible. When Ford realized that you had settled into the tub he turned to face you again and you smiled an encouraging smile at him before closing your eyes.
Ford hesitated a moment but eventually found the courage to take off his turtleneck. His heart beat rapidly in his chest but when he pulled it over his head and realized your eyes were still closed he relaxed a little. He felt bad for not trusting you enough to see him shirtless while you trusted him enough to sit naked in front of him with your eyes closed. He took another deep breath to steady himself and took off the rest of his clothes.
After you heard what you assumed to be Ford’s pants dropping to the floor you lifted your arms out of the water and placed them on either side of the tub, inviting him in. You heard two footsteps and then felt the water moving slightly. It took all your concentration to keep your eyes closed, not because you wanted to gawk at him, but rather because you wanted to help him sit down safely without hurting either of you.
You managed though, and soon enough Ford sat between your legs in the bathtub. A deep sigh left Ford’s lips as well, as he felt the warm water around his cold skin. He was careful not to lean too far back, trying desperately to touch you as little as possible. When he was as comfortable as he could get, he spoke up again in a tiny voice. “You can open your eyes now.”
The sight in front of you made your heart flutter. It felt so domestic somehow. His gray hair and strong shoulders in front of you - all you wanted to do was reach out, pull him close and never let go. But you restrained yourself, you had to go at his pace. For a moment you just admired him, studied all the scars and tattoos you hadn’t seen before and committed them to memory.
“Please say something.” Ford’s voice didn’t quite manage to break you out of your trance. “I love you.” As soon as the words left your mouth you froze. You didn’t mean to say that - you had never said this to each other before. “Sorry, I don’t know wh-” “I love you, too.”
You were shocked, to say the least, your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your ribcage. With Ford facing forward you couldn’t look at him, but you could tell from the red of his ears that he was blushing. You bit your bottom lip as you tried to anticipate whether or not your next words would ruin the moment. “Can I touch you?”
His breathing picked up its pace and he nodded. Slowly, you lifted one of your hands from the side of the bathtub and moved it to his shoulder. Ford’s breath hitched when your skin touched his. You let your thumb draw slow, soothing circles on his skin and after a few seconds you heard Ford let out a long breath, relaxing a little.
After a few moments like that you slowly let your hand wander up his shoulder until your fingers came into contact with one of his scars and you could feel Ford tense under your touch. With a feather-like softness you let your fingers trace the scar. “Bill.” Was the only word he managed to get out. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” You assured him and he relaxed under your touch again.
A few more moments passed with your one hand tracing gentle patterns on his shoulder, until Ford raised his other arm out of the water and put it on top of your other arm. He took your hand and slowly moved it forward, pulling you along with it. You didn’t protest as you felt him wrap your arm around himself, holding it against his chest and gently kissing your knuckles.
This gave you the perfect opportunity to gently pull him towards you, encouraging him to lean into your chest, while never stopping the soothing strokes of his shoulder with your other hand. A smile formed on your face when you both had settled into a comfortable position, his back to your chest and your head looking over his shoulder.
You stayed like that for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying a word, just enjoying the moment.
You looked downward just enough to look at his shoulder and then leaned down, pressing a loving kiss to your boyfriend’s skin. Ford gasped, not expecting the sensation, but quickly relaxing into it. You could stay like this forever.
After some more time enjoying this moment, you noticed the water losing some of its warmth. Ford noticed this as well. “We should probably start getting ready soon.” He said but didn’t move an inch. You chuckled lightly. “Yeah…”
You took a deep breath, taking in as much of this moment as you could. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” Even with all that’s happened to lead you up to this point, Ford blushed again. It was adorable. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I-If you want to?”
With a smile on your lips you gently guided him into a more horizontal position, cupped some water in your hand and let it flow over his head. Once his hair was sufficiently wet you grabbed a bottle of shampoo and put some on your hands before messaging it into his hair. Ford's eyes fluttered shut and he practically melted into your touch. You loved to see him so relaxed and it filled you with pride to know that you were the cause for this.
After you had rinsed his hair with water he was about to sit up straight again but you stopped him. “Your hair needs conditioner.” He didn’t protest and let you go through the same motions again. “I could get used to this…” Ford breathed the words out and you almost didn’t catch them. But when they registered in your mind your heart swelled with affection for the man.
“All done.” Your voice made him open his eyes and sit back up. He was no longer leaning against your chest and you noticed that the foam was starting to dissolve. You could see a little more of his back now, but you tried not to stare.
“I-ehm…” Ford started but didn’t know how to voice his question. You understood him though. “How about I close my eyes for you to get out and then I face the wall to wash my own hair while you get dressed?” Ford chuckled lightly, the tension of having to ask an uncomfortable question immediately lifted by your genuine respect for his boundaries.
“They’re closed,” you told him and he stood up, got out and wrapped himself in a towel. As soon as you heard both of his feet hit the ground you turned in the tub and faced the wall, presenting Ford your back. You wet your own hair and when you were reaching backwards for the shampoo bottle you couldn’t reach it. Seems like you didn’t think this one through fully.
“Here.” You felt the bottle gently hit your hand and took it from him. While you were busy washing your hair, Ford realized that neither of you had brought any fresh clothes into the bathroom. He quickly left to get some for himself and then some for you as well. When he came back you were just putting conditioner into your hair.
“I brought you some clothes as well.” You halted. “I knew I forgot something. Thank you.” Ford chuckled and quickly got dressed into some fresh pants and a different red turtleneck. When he was done you were just about to stand up. Ford picked up the towel and held it in front of himself. You stood up, your back still facing him, and he wrapped his arms around you and the towel along with it.
Ford pressed a chaste kiss to the nape of your neck before letting go of you. “I’ll make us both a hot chocolate.” You just hummed in response.
When you stepped out of the bathroom the house felt warm again and the smell of hot chocolate filled the air. You let the smell guide you to the kitchen where you found Ford. Your arms snaked around his waist, hugging him from behind and you nuzzled your face into his turtleneck.
When he was done preparing the drinks he turned around in your arms, cupping your face in his hands. “What have I done to deserve you?” He sighed dreamily and you smiled a crooked grin at him. “You made us hot chocolate!” You both chuckled and took the drinks to the living room where you both settled into the old recliner.
Once the drinks were emptied and you were just about to drift off into sleep in his arms, you heard Ford whisper in your ear.
“Thank you.”
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crazyvik97rpg · 2 days ago
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Sebastian listened with interest when William started telling him all about his day. That work was just the usual but that he told their friends. Sebastian was the most curious about that – but apparently they took the news really well. Well, according to circumstances at least. They even sent wishes and offered their support? Awe, they were so sweet.
„Really? Aw…“, Sebastian hummed, pouting a little but more due to the fact that he was quite moved by their reactions. William kissed his hand and reassured him there was no need to worry about anything, they understood. „Tell them thank you. I‘ll do my best to be back as soon as I can“, he smiled.
„My day?“, Sebastian grinned then and also looked over at his grandma for a moment, „Well, I wasn’t too bored, no. Heh. I got a new bed neighbour actually! He’s in surgery right now. An elderly guy arrived this morning with his wife and we chatted a bit. Then Dr Cole came around…I chatted with the nurses…had more boring soup and purree for lunch. But then! Grandma showed up, that was the best surprise“, it was cute how excited Sebastian got when he babbled on and on about his day – it was kind of helpful too, kept him distracted from the discomfort. Grandma Lillian smiled too then and she squeezed his arm a little, nodded: „I heard everything from his mother just a few days ago. So I simply had to come. You know, I have my own problems and all that and getting around isn’t easy. Sebastian‘s cousin drove me here. But…well, I can only imagine how hard this is on him“, she sighed softly and looked at Sebastian again, patting his arm gently.
„But I see you’re very involved as well, I‘m glad. It’s important to have a strong support system, especially in times like these. And Sebastian is so young. It’s already hard as it is“, she noted, smiling at William appreciatively. She could see he was a very supportive, caring young man. Everyone in their closer family knew that Sebastian wasn’t always lucky when it came to love but…really, the fact that Cynthia loved William was all grandma Lillian needed to know.
„We were just about to do some crosswords, actually, before you came. I think I have some more time to stay before your cousin comes to pick me up again“, she hummed as she had a look at her wristwatch. „Leo?“, Sebastian asked but Lillian shook her head and waved her hand, „Carter. Oh, Leonhard has a new girlfriend now, he doesn’t have time for anything or anyone now“.
„As always“, Sebastian snorted, „I thought he broke up? I mean, that was a while ago now…“
„Oh yes, that was months ago. And she was such a sweet girl too. I don’t know what the problem was this time. Oh well…“, Lillian sighed and then looked over at William, showed him a smile and shrugged, „Love just comes and goes, it seems.“
For I have sinned...
The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 
William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 
“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 
William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.
“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”
“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…
***
Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?
So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.
After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.
The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 
He was in for a bit surprise.
@crazyvik97
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balkanradfem · 18 hours ago
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I don't get to talk about feminism in real life, because it's not an accepted topic here, it's an 'evil harpy movement' still, despite it getting women the right to vote, own property, own a bank account, be able to be paid for work. The consenus is that normal women don't need to be feminists, we already have the right to vote so what more could we possibly want. I do get to talk with young women about it! When I have some teenagers or young adult women in my life, I am telling them all about it, showing them all the violence statistics, instructing them on all possible methods of abortion, and they are genuinely stunned to gain this information they've never had access to before.
But yesterday, I was at plant lady's house, and I breached the topic of feminism, because I had just entered a feminist book club, and joined a little group of croatian radfems, so I was all up in my ideas about it. And I love the plant lady, she's a beloved figure in my life, but she is both against feminism, and a huge fan of conspiracy theories. So when I started talking about feminism, she interrupted me to tell me that she heard that women, are not in fact, responsible for feminism, but it's actually males in power that are pulling the strings. I explained that we don't even allow m*n to participate in what we do, but she was sure she's right, because, males in power thought it would be cool for women to have jobs and pay taxes, so they invented feminism, to collect more taxes and have more workers. And I knew I couldn't argue her about it because conspiracy theories exist to null every argument against them, right, no matter what I say, she'll have a more incredible explanation. So instead I changed the topic to the problems of sexual violence against women, domestic violence, normalization of pedophilia, and treatment of women like objects due to rampant pornography.
And she's like, no, that doesn't happen, most people are normal and have normal marriages and treat women normally, and these problems, are not the problems of 'feminism', these are things everyone is against – and I say no they're not, m*n don't care, they don't fight against any of it, in fact they're the perpetrators of 90% of these crimes. Then she launches into a story of an abused woman who refused to leave her husband because she loved him. I explain to her that this is incredibly common and it's called 'cycle of abuse', and we can resolve this by teaching women very early on about this cylce, that it can easily happen to them no matter what kind of husband they choose, and to recognize the signs early, before it comes to worst, and for women who are going trough it, they need all this euducation too. What is happening currently is nobody is talking about it and we pretend it doesn't exist and then victim-blame women when they get abused. Most abused women don't even recognize they're being abused because they're being isolated and told it's their own fault. Then she launched into another story about a woman who she knows was battered who escaped. Then she mentioned another situation she knew with a violent husband, and another with a drunk one. And I'm listening to her like. Hey. You said this doesn't even happen, that it's incredibly rare, but you personally know this many cases? And you know me, I've been living in violence too, remember?
And she just looks at me. Realizing for a second that it's not that rare. She didn't argue with me. She previously really thought about each and every case she knew as an outlier, something so improbable and rare that it wasn't really a social problem. She told me then, that we can't really help these people, because police only makes it worse, so what do we even do. I told her it's important that we talk about it, that we offer resources and teach women early on to recognize abuse, and to make a point of not blaming women for it, to make it clear any male could do it to them at any point, to be ready for it, to reconsider marrying, to have a separate bank account, to never let their survival and housing be completely dependant on a male.
I also indulged her to think why women can find themselves in these situations in the first place? If we're so equal, how come it's possible women don't have anywhere to go to, and need to stay in the abusers house to just survive. I said it has something to do with parents usually leaving their houses and properties to sons, and expecting daughters to move into their husbands places, and she again said 'no this doesn't happen', and I went 'well why don't these abused women just move into their own houses they inherited from their parents' and she again, had no arguments. It's not the sole reason though, women earn less too, get less promotions, get paid less for the same job, still mostly do unpaid labour, dedicate a big part of their life to raising children on their own, they don't get to accumulate funds and properties in the same ways m*n do.
Anyway, while we were having this entire conversation, her 18yo daughter was there, listening to us, and miraculously, she seemed to agree with me! When the plant lady claimed 'there's so many normal ones out there', the daughter interrupted to say 'no mom, there's no normal m*n out there, I can't find anyone normal', and I immediately supported her claim with agreement. I was so happy to be a little feminist influence on her and to validate her point! She was also wearing a shirt that said 'grl pwr' and I was like 'yes this is great' even though it's just a liberal catchphrase, it's still a sign of wanting women to have power in the world that doesn't believe a word they say.
I think the type of attitude the plant lady has is extremely common for women in our country, in fact she was very receptive to what I was saying. She knew about this many cases of domestic abuse, because she was often the safe person for these women to tell, and she has been helping the ones who escaped, me included.
Most women I know will launch in defense of males and trashing of women as soon as you mention feminism, because it's the only socially accepted thing to do. I believe we all have women in our lives who are not malicious or terribly ignorant, but affected by the mainstream beliefs that women are asking for too much, already have everything, and are at fault for everything that happens to them; this is incredibly pervasive and impossible to debate in a conversation. It's so ingrained in women to go against anything that makes m*n look bad, it's almost considered a sin and a hate crime to even think this way. Like something a bad, selfish, bitter, irrational and greedy woman would do, and nobody wants to be dubbed that. I remember thinking this way myself when I was a teen; I wanted to hold males responsible so bad, but the shame of being seen as this hateful and bitter person was getting to me, to the point where I would silent down and not speak out.
I used to get so angry at anti feminists, and would avoid indulging with the topic because it would irritate me so much, but I've gained more understanding as I go on, and can now tolerate the opposing arguments when I know they've come from propaganda and social pressure, rather than ignorance or hunger for approval. I'm more effective being able to indulge a little! Not a lot though. If I spent a lot of my time trying to argue with anti-feminists I would in fact, wither and die.
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hoshinasblade · 2 days ago
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you are so close to gaslighting yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe you have already told hoshina's mom in the past what your favorite tea is.
the problem with that thought is today was the first time you met the mother of your boyfriend.
you denied it in your head - for all you know, perhaps mrs. hoshina is just really a good at guessing. that, or you are going batshit crazy.
because at that very day, people you have met for the first time - people who may be friends with hoshina soshiro but are practically strangers to you - seem to be aware of small details about you.
captain ashiro complimented you on your blue dress after shaking your hands, saying it's obvious why it is your favorite color, emphasizing how it brings out the intensity of your eyes. even okonogi, who you know works directly with the third division's vice-captain, had a specific joyful aura on her friendly face as she offered to hang out with you in the future, mentioning how she is a fan of true crime documentaries too and suggesting in the same breath that you should try the pudding sold in the headquarter's cafeteria.
you could have let all of that go if only you did not blush like a teenager after hoshina's own older brother called you by your childhood nickname during family dinner.
"i'm sorry." hoshina's hand found yours, his thumb drawing patterns on your wrist. he knows you'd been on edge since morning, and although this is entirely your idea - meeting his friends and his family in one day - he wouldn't blame you if you're overwhelmed.
"they did their research on me or something," you tried to laugh the nerves away. it didn't work.
"ah." hoshina suddenly looked guity. " that. well -" he stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, choosing the right words to say. "i mean, it makes sense that everyone who actually knows me would know about you, really."
you wanted to joke as a response; you wanted to say that he's talkative and tends to yap for hours about stuff he loves so yes, people around him would naturally know things about you. but then you caught yourself because this is yet another confirmation of what hoshina soshiro had been telling you for months now - that you are someone he loves.
you did not know being known could feel this sweet.
"huh. do you reckon i can extort them for information about you next time?" this time it was your turn to grab hoshina's hand, and with your forefinger, you traced three little words on the warm skin of his palm.
[author's note: hello guys, i know i haven't been posting a lot anymore, but i am thankful to everyone who still remembers this blog - yes i can read your asks, yes i see that you've tagged me in a fic, yes i checked my notifications in this blog every now and then. it might take me long to respond most of the time so apologies in advance but please know that i appreciate all interactions from everyone.
also i dont need to remind you but i don't tolerate copy-pasting or reposting any of my works anywhere. i read a lot from here too, and other writers can attest to this as well - we know if a line or a paragraph from any of our works is copied and/or reworded. ]
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olderthannetfic · 9 hours ago
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Im neither a proshipper nor an anti at this current stage in life, but at one point i was an anti i guess? And I hate it say it, but looking back, I understand why. I don't think I actually gave a fuck about Harmful Fanfic or whatever, it was just a substitute for therapy that i couldn't get at the time (because "literally neurodivergent and a minor" or whatever, but like...actually literally neurodivergent and a minor LOL).
As weird as it sounds like, no one cared about my ACTUAL PAIN, and that made me feel EVEN MORE PAIN, so i took it out on ppl who shipped "abuse", or whatever.
It's so stupid now, as an adult who is mentally better than I was then, but as ridiculous as it was, seeing someone ship an "abusive" ship or a "queer erasing ship" (like a canonically gay character with someone of the other binary gender)...it felt eerily similar to the actual abuse I was facing and the stress that everyone was putting on me to find a boyfriend or ask why my (closeted lesbian) self didn't like any boys.
But it was so much easier to keyboard warrior about how people who ship Bad things are Bad people, than it was to fix any problems in my actual life because...well, the actual problems in my life COULDN'T be fixed. That isn't a learned helplessness thing, there was genuinely nothing I could've done. So pissing off Shippers was, like, a vessel for that, and it *felt* like I was getting to lash out at the same people who were ACTUALLY hurting me, even though that obviously is not the case. Funny thing is, it wasn't actual fandom discourse that made me switch sides, it was getting to learn more about youth liberation movements and stuff, because it was then that I recognized the actual structures that were making me hurt.
I think one silver lining is it's made me more compassionate an adult. While I don't have any defense for the antis who do actual horrendous stuff like doxxing or sending death/rape threats, etc, I do have a lot of defense for the ones who were like me and would just make posts talking about how Wrong it is to ship certain things. I know that not all antis are in the same place that I was once was, and some are just genuinely immature brats, but it's like. . . I get it, you know?
The cycle of abuse/bullying is weird and it's not often a 1:1 "I had an abusive parent so now i'll be an abusive parent", sometimes it's the chronically online stuff like I did. It's also why I'm careful-careful to not engage and to just block or, even try to have a mature discussion if I can, and if the person I'm talking to is just "a little bit annoying" rather than "actual bully doing/sending illegal stuff". A lot of them just want to be heard, I think, and it really makes me sad that this is the way they choose to be heard...but also i get it, because i was that.
--
Yup. We often discuss anti tendencies in this framework.
People want control over their environment when they have none. They want the world to make sense and for there to be simple rules they can follow to Never Mess Up. This is a very common reaction to trauma and also typical of brains that like order and neat boxes and a world full of justice and logic.
The trouble is that a critical mass of "I'm just pointing this out" type posts does tend to make all the other teens with an issue around moral scrupulosity implode. (And let's be real, plenty of the antis themselves are secretly into dark content and are trying to pray the gay kink away.)
I have some sympathy, but I'm still going to tell people they're sealioning when they are and tell them they're flat out wrong about how fantasies work, not sugar coat it because they're probably a delicate teen. There's no need to be excessively mean or treat people as irredeemable, but I also don't like how we talk endlessly about compassion for teen antis and not for teens targeted by antis. It's similar to how there are all those complaints like "Hey, I work hard to manage my mental illness, but all the support seems to go to people who are letting their issues rampage..."
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some-eldritch-bats · 1 day ago
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I think this is a more aggressive problem in transmasc circles from what I've seen, but it's still a huge issue in transfem circles. I also know that, in my own case, it's mostly not an issue from trans people. Mostly it's internalised or it's from cis people. It could be worse for me - I'm a butch woman and have no interest in trying to be feminine, so I don't cop as much heat since it's not really possible for people to judge me as "appealing to cis men" because I am objectively not, and indeed actively try not to. But like.
Yeah.
Similarly, though, I personally feel like I want to be slightly less fat than I am right now. I'd love to lose, like... maybe 15kg? I don't care about being fat, but right now I'm at a level where it hurts my joints, and I work in a walking around/standing up job so I would prefer to lose weight for that.
And you know, it's hard? Because whenever I talk about it, either I get "oh, you need to lose a lot more than that :)" comments, or I get "nooo queen, you don't need to lose anything <3 you're so valid <3 you're gorgeous just how you are!!" comments. Which, neither are helpful!! I just want to carry less weight around on my shitty knees!! Like yeah I definitely get self-conscious about my appearance, but I'm progressively less and less worried about that and more and more neutral (i.e. feeling that being fat is a different kind of beauty, neither better nor worse to my own eyes, and therefore I don't really view it as impacting me so much). It's legitimately just a desire to have less weight on my joints, and maybe also to sweat slightly less under the Aussie summer sun. I do not need you to tell me that I'm "perfect how I am", because my body shouldn't simply exist: it should serve my interests and needs. If I want it to be different, I should be able to change it!!
I just wish weight was something we had a healthier relationship to as a society, especially for trans people who are already dealing with the hell of trying to conform to or break out of cishet norm standards. We deal with a lot of shit already, and this really shouldn't have to be piled on with it.
I think I’ve talked about it before but the hypersexualized ‘twink feminine trans guy’ thing has caused people’s (mostly cis guys who prey on trans men) idea of what a standard trans guy looks like to be warped.
What is skinny for a cis woman is suddenly fat for a trans guy. Trans guys have to be super underweight to be ‘pretty’. And this pressure to fit into the ‘cute anime boy’ leaks into online spaces. I can’t tell you how many times I got called fat when I was 110lbs by other trans guys who think that the only way to be loved is to fit into what chaser cis men want them to be.
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sepublic · 17 hours ago
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            I find it interesting that even in the epilogue, four years after Camila has had time to be more acquainted with the Boiling Isles under non-threatening circumstances, she’s still creeped out by it. And this is fine! The narrative isn’t condemning her for it. It’s not demanding that she enjoy these things like Luz does; It’s just asking for her to respect its existence, and to support Luz’s interest in it and love her too.
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            In For the Future, we see Camila horrified by what she encounters in the Boiling Isles; But she also spends the whole episode pushing through it anyway for Luz’s sake, being there for her as much as she can. Because she knows these are just feelings and nothing more, and she’s choosing to be kind in spite of them.
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            By contrast, in this same episode we find out Belos does feel empathy and guilt towards his brother and nephew, he wasn’t purely 100% only interested in what they could do for him; And yet, he’s still just as cruel and violent towards them. He’s still cruel and violent towards witches and demons, sometimes using the ‘tragedy’ of Caleb as a justification. Hell, he even resents the ghosts for making him feel guilty, telling them to “Shut up.”
            Isn’t that fascinating? Disgust is portrayed as a morally neutral thing. It’s not an indictator of morality, it doesn’t mean something is bad… But it doesn’t mean the person who feels it is bad, either, people don’t consider that enough. It’s just a gut reaction. Sometimes people have internalized biases they need to work through, but other times, it’s pretty harmless as long as they’re self-aware and don’t do anything bad over it; This even applies to the process of unlearning the aforementioned biases.
            Likewise, empathy and guilt don’t actually, necessarily make you a good person. The example with Belos shows how some people will actually be crueler because of empathy, because they resent people for being upset, and thus making them feel upset because they naturally empathize. Hence those who get angry at people in pain and need for “ruining their vibe,” because now they feel bad too.
            There’s a juxtaposition in how Camila seems genuinely more scared and creeped out by the isles on a visceral level than Belos, and yet Camila has the common sense to still respect and fight for its existence; Whereas Belos chooses to make a mountain out of a molehill because it’s not just hatred, it’s pride. It all boils down to his ego at the end of the day. In many ways, other characters struggle with dilemmas more difficult than Belos’, yet still do better than he ever has.
            This all plays into my thesis that TOH is arguing your feelings are secondary to your actions, and that the latter is what decides whether you’re a “good” person or not. In the end, someone who’s had a good life and was a dick for selfish reasons, only to choose to be better, is more sympathetic and morally superior than someone who suffered a million unfair grievances, and proceeded to dole out a million unfair grievances, with no sign of stopping; Especially from an IRL perspective, and I think our IRL feelings sometimes influence how we engage with media, and vice-versa.
            That’s why the finale –and the show as a whole– emphasizes choices, over inherent, instinctual feelings. A decent chunk of Camila’s arc could be summarized by the word Squick; In the sense that it’s meant to describe things that one feels personal disgust and discomfort towards, but otherwise has no moral condemnation or problem with; It’s just a Me thing, is the point of Squick. Camila is like that sex-repulsed ace who nevertheless supports kink at Pride.
            That gets me to how my ruminations were prompted by a similar observation; How some people lump sex-repulsed aces in with the oppressive Puritans who hate sex in anything, but that’s not true at all. Obviously there’s the rare Exception, but as a whole, sex-repulsed aces are on the side of other queers who ARE sexual and are demanding to let these things be normalized; It’s not for them, but they have no moral condemnation and will fight for it in solidarity anyway, especially since both are hated by the system regardless. Sound familiar?
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justmeinadaze · 17 hours ago
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Inescapable Part 5 (Steddie X Y/N)
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A/N: Ok I have one more part left...I think lol I'm 90% positive I have one more part left but sometimes I type and more of a story flows lol
Enjoy!
Warnings: Convicts Dom Older Steddie (Sir Eddie/ Daddy Steve) & Fem Sub Younger Y/N, SMUT, dirty talk (all the dirty talk), trying to be quiet, praise, etc. FLUFF, they love her and she loves them, Steddie being good dads to Olivia <3
ANGST (😈)
Coming off the last chapter they are on the run, a guard is hurt (brief mentions of blood), the guys finally tell her what happened in 86 (slight season 4 spoilers), mentions of PTSD (especially with Eddie), Reader and Steve get into a small fight (very brief), brief mentions of Y/N and Olivia being considered hostages while they're all on the run, Cliffhanger ending! Involving an idiot from their past and they are prepared to let their dark (slightly toxic) side take over to resolve the problem.
Word Count: 6843
Inescapable Series/ Donate to Me :)
Steve’s eyes continually flick to the rear-view mirror as you stare out the window of the third car they had stolen on this trip alone. It had been about 24hrs and you still looked incredibly worn out. Eddie made sure you took all your pills that were listed in your chart and sat in the backseat with you to keep an eye on Olivia when you finally fell asleep. 
“Shhh… Everything’s ok, sweetheart. You just had to get here early, didn’t you? Were you worried about your momma to? Yeah?”, he grinned when his daughter cooed.
“Alright, I’m going to pull over here. That way we can all rest and get something to eat.”, the other man conveyed as he pulled into a hotel parking lot. 
After grabbing a key and hiding the car in the back, Steve carried you inside and placed you on the bed beside where Eddie had placed the baby. 
“Go ahead and relax. I’ll run and grab some food. I saw a diner next door and we still have some formula from the convenience store we stopped at.”
Nodding at his friend, the metalhead pushes down his baseball cap over his long hair he had pulled up into a messy bun and hurries out the door. As it closes, the loud thunk stirs Olivia as she begins to whine. 
“Oh no, honey, it’s ok.”, Steve tries to sooth as he picks her up and bounces her carefully in his arms. “It’s ok. Daddy didn’t mean to scare you. You have to be quiet or else you’re going to wake up mommy.”
After grabbing the pacifier and climbing into the bed beside you, he can’t help but smile as you curl tighter into him. This is all Steve ever wanted, a little family of his own. When they started interacting with you, his mind was always a buzz with fantasies of waking up beside you every morning or going down the stairs of a big house to find his kids cackling as they ate their breakfast. Coming home after a long day at the office to find you and Eddie working together to help the children with their homework and make dinner. 
Images like that fueled him as he used it for motivation to get through each day until they were set free…until your dad ripped that away…
Steve’s nose scrunched in anger as it ran through his body before his daughter sighing brought him back to the moment. 
***
“Goddamn it.”, Eddie grumbled as he tripped over his feet reentering the hotel room. Spotting you three passed out on the bed had his heart fluttering as he placed the food down on the table. 
You looked so tiny against Steve’s large frame as his palm rested on your temple while Olivia was asleep on his broad chest with her father’s protective hand keeping her steady. 
This is all Eddie ever wanted, a family. Something he never got to have growing up. Wayne was the only person in the Munson line that seemed to give a shit about him and he promised himself when he got married and had kids they would never feel unwanted. 
When they met you, he envisioned a picture-perfect life with you and Steve by his side with a bunch of little rugrats running around. He would take you somewhere outside of Hawkins where you three could start fresh and feel safe. 
Maybe that was still something he could have if you three made it where you were going. 
The sound of you stirring and wincing grabbed his attention as he checked the clock before digging into a bag to grab your pills. 
“Hey, sweetheart. Come on. Time to take this next set of meds and I got some food for you to.”, Eddie whispers as he takes your forearm and helps you to the table. “How are you feeling?”
“Hm…better, thank you.”
“Tell me about the birth. What happened?”, he asks as he begins sorting everything. 
“The doctor thinks it was stress that induced me. It hurt so bad, Eddie. Derek rushed me to the hospital and I was there forever. After she was born, I guess I lost a bit too much blood and passed out. Told you, she was a vampire.”, you smile as the man across from you tries to do the same but can’t hide his worry. 
At the sound of the bags jostling, Steve’s eyes open and the metalhead hastily scurries over to move Olivia so he can get up to eat as well. 
“Thanks, man.”
“She has my last name. I wanted to give her yours but—”
“We know, baby. Your, um, your dad told us.”
“Is he the one that gave you those bruises?”, you ask as you reach out to touch the other man’s face.
“Let’s not talk about that right now, ok? I called Dustin and he said he’s going to send us some things at a P.O. Box a couple towns over so—”
“I want to talk about it now.” Your tone is firm, much stronger than it had been these past couple of days. “What happened? What made you escape now instead of before? You said my father saw me leaving…”
Annoyance darkens their eyes but you remain unshaken as you glare back. 
“You were covered in blood. Did you kill someone?”
“And if we had?”, Steve snaps. “What would that change? Would you take Olivia and run back to your asshole dad? Turn us in and put us back where we belong?”
“No, you fucking dick. I just sacrificed everything to be here with you two so don’t you dare talk to me like that.”, you growl before sighing heavily from exhaustion as you lean back in your seat.
Blinking, the pretty boy calms down, reaching for your soda, and holding the straw to your lips that you eagerly sip.
“I’m sorry, honey. It’s been a rough few hours.”, Steve exhales as he tilts back in his chair as well. “Your dad showed up with some of the guards who are his friends I guess and beat the shit out of me and him.”
“He was going to separate us.”, Eddie added with a crack in his voice as he stared at the table in front of him. “He was going to send me to Indianapolis where my father is and Steve to Washington. Y/N, part of the reason we’ve made it this long is each other. We protect each other.”
“That first week we went in some guy jumped me because of my last name. Munson beat his ass and anyone else who even had the idea. Later on, inmates tried to hurt him to get to me because I’m soft…or so they thought… One night some fucker stabbed him so I did the same. No body messed with us after that.”
“If he separated us, Steve would have been hurt or worse and my dad with his own asshole goons…”, the metalhead shakes the thought from his brain as his eyes meet yours. “You’d have been trapped in Hawkins alone…”
“Did—Did you have to kill someone to escape?”
There’s a long pause in the conversation before Eddie finally shook his head.
“What the fuck are we going to do, Ed?!”
“I don’t know, Steve.”, the man replies with a flat expression as his friend manically paces in their cell. 
“We’ll both be killed and what about Y/N? She and Olivia will be all alone with fucking Derek and her asshole father!”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?! Just yeah?! In Washington, I can’t protect them or you! Eddie, if you go to Indianapolis, your dad is going to fucking teach you a lesson! I guess it doesn’t fucking matter though because as soon as they throw me in a cell up there someone is going to hurt me. The only reason I’ve lasted this long is you!” Steve feels his body fold into itself as he begins to really panic. “I can’t leave you or Y/N. I love you both. How am… I’ll be all alone… I should have just let the bats fucking rip me apart—”
As the boy spoke, the metalhead felt himself get steadily ramped up till he couldn’t take it anymore and rushed forward capturing Steve’s face in his palms as his lips crashed to his own.
“I’m not going to let that happen. I didn’t let you die then and I won’t let anyone hurt you now. Do you hear me?!”, he roughly growls as he tries to control the tears that want to break free. “You won’t be alone, sweetheart, I promise. I don’t care what I have to do.”
Eddie kisses him a bit softer as the other man nods and clings to his wrist. 
The lock to their cell slowly opens and both men prepare to fight before coming face to face with a guard they trust. 
“Come on. We have to move fast.”, Bobby whispers as he ushers them out with his hand and they hastily follow. After leading them to the area he allowed them to leave through last time, he paused and handed the long-haired boy a small knife. “Ok, you remember how to get out right? Now since you aren’t coming back I need it to look like you overpowered me.”
“Wait, can’t we just hit you or something?”
“No, that’d be too suspicious. If this is really what you want to do, you need to decide now.”
Both boys glance at each other before Eddie steps towards him and places his palm on the guard’s shoulder. 
“Thank you, man. For everything you’ve done for us and Y/N.”
“I always knew you were innocent and Y/N has always been kind to me.”, Bobby smiles softly before nodding his head. “Try and hit this side here. I’ll radio it in, in two minutes so you better fucking run. Good luck, guys.”
“It was so fast, Y/N. As soon as we hit the woods, the alarms started going off. I didn’t think we’d get to you.”, Eddie sighed as he finished his story, their eyes flicking your way as you started to cry. “No, hey, no. Don’t cry, sweetheart.”, he pleaded as he got out of his chair to fall on his knees in front of you and take your hands.
“This is all my fault. Maybe if I had listened to you and left with my mom or—”
“Maybe all of this would have happened anyway.”, Steve cut you off as he pet your head. “Your dad isn’t exactly a trust worthy man.”
“I love you so much and everything is going to be alright.”
“Yeah, princess, it will.”, the long-haired boy beamed as he kissed your lips. 
##################
Three Years Later
“Olivia!”, you giggle as your daughter continues to dance around while you try to pull on her jacket. “Do you want to play outside or not?”
“Yeah.”
“Ok, then you have to let me put this on you or else you’re going to freeze to death.”
“No, mommy! I no freeze to die!”, she laughs, her cackle reminding you of Eddie as she shows off all of her teeth and gums. 
It had been three years since you made it over the border into Canada with your convict boyfriends in the trunk and Dustin’s falsified papers at your side. You managed to make it to a tiny little town and create a new life for yourself that you absolutely loved. 
With their friends help, you were able to convince a small law firm that you had graduated from college with high marks. Granted it wasn’t criminal law like you had been studying but you were still able to help people and that made you happy. 
Eddie absolutely despised cutting his hair but to keep a low profile he did what needed to be done. Like Olivia, he tended to keep it longer than normal but as soon as it started to go too low past his ears, he went to the shop to get it cut. Because they didn’t want to be too far from each other having been in a small cell together for over 10 years, both men got a job at a car dealership with him in the automotive shop and Steve as a salesman.
Out in public, people called you three by different names but in your home you were still Y/N, Eddie, and Steve. The little dwelling the pretty boy was able to find was modest but perfect for your family with two bedrooms and a large backyard for your daughter to run around in. 
Thankfully for her, she never sensed anything was amiss when it came to her life and you hoped to keep it that way for as long as you could. 
After lifting her into your arms, you carried her outside where you watched her run off to climb her jungle gym. 
“Be careful!”
“Or what?!”, she teased.
“Or else I’m going to tell your daddy and he’s going to tell Santa you were bad!”
“Nu uh!!”
“Yeah huh!”
“What in God’s name are you two shouting about?”, Steve grinned as he opened the back door to join you guys outside. 
“Our daughter is being mean.”
Eddie kisses your lips before running towards Olivia who opened her arms wide to give him a big hug. 
“Ew, daddy! Smell bad.”
“Oh yeah? I know, we had a car in today that I’m surprised didn’t explode. How was your day, sweetheart?”
“Good. Mommy take me t-to work.”
“Did you two have fun?”, the other man asks as he leans down to give her a big hug as well. 
“Yeah! Mister…Mr. Jackson gave me cookie!”
Grinning, the three of you sit on your back patio as you watch Olivia play. This was everything they ever wanted and they were so grateful to be able to experience this with you.
***
“Mmph—fuck, Steve. Feels so good”
“Shhhhh, baby.”, the pretty boy scolds making you smile as you pass by the open bathroom door in your shared bedroom before throwing yourself down in front of your desk and turning on your bulky computer. 
As the years passed, both men seemed to open up more when it came to their love for each other and you absolutely encouraged it. You wanted them to feel safe and loved not just with you but themselves. Now that there was no longer the looming threat of prisoners and being hurt, they confided in you that it no longer felt like survival but genuine affection that they could now feel openly without fear of it being exploited.
Sliding on your headphones to give them extra layer of privacy, you did what you do every night and began double checking information online. 
That first year, message boards and police sites were full of information trying to hunt down the two escapees and their “hostages”. You assumed your father thought that would not only protect you from any prosecution (or embarrassment for him) but make people hunt for them harder if they believed they had kidnapped a baby.
As time progressed news began to dwindle and for that you were thankful. There was the occasional “sighting” but when you read the article you breathed a sigh of relief realizing it wasn’t even close to where you were. 
The feeling of fingers in your hair brought you back to the moment as you leaned your head back just in time for Eddie’s lips to softly land on yours. 
“Anything new out in the world?”
“Mmm…no.”, you grinned as you placed your headphones and CD player to the side. 
“Fuck me, it’s cold.”, Steve whined as he scurried out of the bathroom and hastily threw on his sweats with a long sleeve shirt. “How are you two not cold?”
“You would think he’s never grown up around snow.”, the other boy teased as he leaned his head on your shoulder. “One of these days one of you will have to show me how to use this thing.”, he gestures towards the computer. “Especially since Dustin and Mike showed Wayne how to sign up for email.”
“Is that safe?”, Steve asks cautiously as he places his hands on his hips behind you both. “I mean can they like…track who he emails to…”
“He may have a point. It’s ok. We’ve all had to make sacrifices to be up here.”, Eddie sighs as he tries to smile your way. 
“Baby, I don’t see why it would be a problem. All of our information is under our aliases so if they did look it won’t seem odd.”, you comfort as you place your hand on his thigh. 
“Naw, sweetheart, he’s right. I can just keep sending him letters without the return address like we’ve been doing. I’m, um, I’m going to go grab a beer and check on Olivia.”
After kissing your forehead, he sullenly heads for the kitchen and you rise to your feet to smack Steve’s chest. 
“Ow! What?”
“Steve, he deserves to talk to the only other family he has. He can send him emails under the Ronnie name. It’s not like the police are going to descend from the ceiling as soon as he hits send.”
“Y/N, you don’t think the cops will wonder why Eddie Munson’s uncle is sending emails constantly to only one person who’s supposedly NOT his nephew?”
“You’re over thinking it.”
“Am I? Or are you not thinking enough? Honey, we can’t afford to jeopardize—”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare give me that lecture again, Steven Harrington. I worry about our safety to ok?”
The man exhales heavily as he turns and throws himself into bed, folding his arms like a toddler as you stomp away in the opposite direction to check on the metalhead.
“And then Smaug flew over the people of Laketown spewing his fire breath…Roar!”, Eddie growled as he opened his arms and pretended to fly around the room breathing fire as you watched from your hidden spot by your daughter’s doorway. 
Olivia giggled as she clapped her hands and he fell to his knees beside her bed pretending to land. 
“The dragon felt like he would be triumphant but he did not expect…the bowman…” When he widened his eyes, she did the same as she hung on every word. “Bard stood his ground amongst the flames with the one weapon he knew would take out his foe.”
You and your daughter waited for him to continue but when he didn’t you peeked around the corner to see him standing completely still. 
“Daddy? Are you ok?”, Olivia asks in a small voice before her eyes meet yours. 
“Baby?”, you ask as you slowly enter the room and place your palm on his back. His eyes were glazed over as his bottom lip began to tremble. “Hey, Eddie, look at me.”, you whisper as you cup his cheek to turn his face. 
You had seen this happen before with both of them but the triggers never made sense. You originally thought it was the trauma of being in prison but a little while after moving into your home, you went for a walk to explore the town. Everyone was exceptionally friendly including a little old Russian man who told you more about the sea food store he owned near the water. 
Steve zoned out as the man spoke and when you tried to take his hand in yours, he flinched and tried to cover his face with his arms. You showed your daughter a lot of movies from your childhood and one day during a family movie night a bat just so happened to appear in the background of the scene causing both men to stiffen. 
You never wanted to push but you always felt so helpless. 
Olivia stood up on her mattress and wrapped her tiny arms around her father’s neck. The action seemed to bring him back as he gradually lifted his own limbs to hug her to his chest. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Daddy got lost in his own adventure.”, he tried to comfort as his voice cracked. Taking a seat on her bed, he placed her under the covers and smiled as he tucked her in. 
“On your ad-ventures, did you fight a dragon?”
“Something like that, princess. Your dad went into the castle and burned the dragon while he was sleeping while I used my sword outside to protect them…just like Bard.”
“Whoa…where was mommy?”
Eddie chuckles as his eyes flick to you before focusing on his daughter again. 
“Mommy was resting safely in her own castle which is good because daddy wouldn’t have wanted her to get hurt.”
You could tell he was still trying to keep it together when he bent down to kiss her good night and took your hand to lead you back to the bedroom.
“What happened there, Ed?”, you ask as he exhales and falls back first onto the mattress. “Where did you go when you were telling her that story?”
“It’s hard to explain, baby.”
Blinking, you make a decision as you grab your desk chair and wheel till your directly in front of them. 
“What happened in 86?” That grabbed their full attention as they sat up to face you. “I know you didn’t kill those people and I’ve never pushed because I don’t want to hurt you but it’s been four years and everything we’ve been through I deserve to know.”
They exchanged a glance you saw many times between them; two people who knew a truth you didn’t. 
“Just 86? Or should we go back to the beginning in 83?”, Steve asks in a flat tone you weren’t prepared for. “That’s when Barb went missing… one of the crimes I was accused of.”
“I… I don’t know. Just tell me what you feel comfortable telling me.”
“I don’t feel comfortable telling you any of it.”
“What. Why?”
“Because you won’t believe us.”, Eddie cut in. “And when we tell you the truth…you’re going to call us crazy, realize you were wrong, take Olivia, and go back home.”
His words pierced your heart and cracked it open as the tears stung your eyes. 
“Jesus… three years and you still think so fucking little of me.”
As you got to your feet to leave the room, Steve hastily blocked your exit with his body. 
“Y/N, the last time part of the truth came out, it was retracted and used against me to put me in prison. I’m…WE’RE scared.”
“Steve, I don’t know what happened but whatever did is very real for you two. I see it in your eyes when you both zone out or flinch at something. There are so many things I’ve witnessed and heard in your case that don’t make sense but maybe the truth well make those puzzle pieces fit.”
Gesturing with his palm towards the bed, you took his place against the headboard while he sat in your chair and Eddie adjusted his body to face you. 
“It all started when Will Byers went missing…”
***
They continued to stare at you as sat their absorbing their words after telling you their entire story. Your logic brain had taken over as your eyes fleeted from left to right sifting through information in your head that you had researched before you met them. 
“Say something, sweetheart, please.”
“How…how didn’t the fire and the mayor being arrested not give validity to your case?”
Steve exhaled a breathily laugh as he leaned forward balancing his elbows on his knees.
“After everything we just told you, I like how that’s your first question.”
“And they didn’t look into…hospital records…after you were…beaten…”
“I didn’t go to the hospital—”
“Ok but EMS took care of you!”, you shouted as you struggled to catch your breath.
“Whoa, Y/N. Ok, what’s going on, baby?”, Eddie tried to soothe as he reached for your trembling hands. 
“And…and you…you almost died…someone hurt you and they didn’t…didn’t…”
“Y/N, sweetheart. I need you to breathe ok?”
You began to sob as you tried to do what he asked but you were beginning to feel super overwhelmed. Not just at the fact that monsters exist but at the notion that for years unbeknownst to you there was a group of people keeping you safe and in return they were either killed or punished including the two men you loved the most. 
“Look at me, little girl.”, Steve commanded in a tone you knew well. “We need you to breathe. No, no. Look at Daddy, baby.”, he says sternly as he cups your cheeks. “There you go, honey. Inhale, exhale.”
“Neither of you deserve what you went through.”
“You believe us? Just like that?”
“Eddie, you both talk in your sleep. I hear you wake up from nightmares that you don’t tell me about. I see it in your face when something happens or when you look at Olivia. I may not have been there or saw what you saw at the time but…I see it now.”
“I’m glad you weren’t there. It’s…it’s an awful place, Y/N.”
“I wish I could have been there during your trial or when you were at the hospital. I would have taken care of you. I would have—”
“Shhhh… hey. Put the logic brain away, nerd.”, Steve teases as he pets your head. “You’re here now and it’s our job to take care of you.”
Nodding your head, your eyes glance down at the light scaring around his neck that you had seen so many times. Noticing your gaze, he takes off his long sleeve shirt and slides closer allowing you a better look. 
“The bites hurt more than anything…like little knives piercing your sides…”
Glancing towards Eddie, he scoots closer as well and takes your hand in his placing it on the scar near his heart.
“This one… The doctors kept saying how they were surprised I was still alive.”
Tears started to trickle down your cheeks again and the metalhead quickly cupped them in his hands as his forehead met yours. 
“It’s ok, baby. We’re ok. Everything…is ok.”
“I hate the idea of you both being in so much pain.”, you whisper. 
“We aren’t anymore, Y/N. Not that kind of pain anyway. We all know how sometimes Steve and I can be a bit rough.”
When you laugh the tension in the room breaks. 
“Yeah but you know I like it when you’re rough.”
Eddie quirks up his eyebrow in a teasing manner before capturing your lips with his own. As the passion between you begins to grow, Steve climbs in on the other side of you, bringing your mouth to his as the metalhead’s trail down your neck.
Their strong palms knead your breasts as Eddie’s fingers continued their descent down your smooth frame. 
“Oh…”, you whine eliciting a small smirk from his lips as his middle and ring fingers rub slow circles against your clit.
Your eyes close as your head falls back against the pillows, only opening again when you hear the subtle smacks of their lips interlocking. 
“She’s so fucking wet.”
“Mmm—fuck her with your fingers, honey, and make her cum. She deserves to.”
“Fuck…YES—”
As Eddie did what Steve suggested, you struggled to control the volume of your moans as his digits hit every sensitive button inside you that only they knew how to reach causing the pretty boy to slam his hand over your mouth. 
“You have to be quiet, baby. Do you need the gag?”
You shake your head and he tosses a smile your way before bouncing between your legs and tossing your panties by your head. Oh, they loved this game. Pushing you to the edge while you try not to scream from pleasure. 
While Eddie’s fingers curled inside of you, Steve’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves. Your legs tried to close around his head but his strong hands kept them still and open. 
“Fuck…please. That feels so good.”
“Yeah, baby? You feel good?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. So beautiful. God, your pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart, I can’t wait to feel you cling to my fucking cock—shit.” Eddie stifled his grunt in your neck as your palm reached down to stroke him through his sweats. “Reminds me…when you came to visit us…and I fucked your hand through my pants like this. Fuck, baby, all I wanted to do was bend you over that table and fuck you till you were screaming my name.”
At his words, your cunt clenched around his fingers as Steve’s tongue flicked and applied the perfect amount of pressure to your clit as the coil snapped. You moaned a bit too loudly and Eddie shoved your panties into your mouth to silence you. 
“Haven’t gotten better at being quiet though.”, he growled but when your glassy needy eyes met his he felt his resolve begin to break. “Fuck, how can I be mad when you look at me like that. You ready for my cock, sweetheart?”
After your nod, Steve moves out of the man’s way as he quickly slides down his pants just enough for his dick to spring free before finding home between your legs. You jump as he taps your nub with his length, grinning at your sensitivity as he guides himself inside your entrance. 
“Goddamn.”
The metalhead sets a steady pace as his hands find purchase on your hips. 
“We talked about this a lot on the inside. What it would be like to fuck you…”, Steve coos as he sits on his knees beside the bed petting your head with one hand while he licked the other before placing it around his cock. “Eddie always thought your pussy would taste sweet like you and your letters smelled. Mmph. Sometimes your perfume would still be on our hands from the envelopes and we would jerk each o-other off imagining it was you.”
The more Steve spoke the faster Eddie’s rhythm got as he repeatedly hit that spongy spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling. Falling on top of you, he removed your panties from your mouth but kept them bunched in his hand as he grunted into your ear on the opposite side of his friend while he continued to talk.
“At night when the lights were out—mmm—I would imagine you in my arms. Sometimes we would climb into the others bunk and grind our cocks against the others ass until…”
“Sir—fuck—M’gonna cum.”
The metalhead was prepared, clamping his hand around your mouth as he pounded into you.
Your whimpers turned to muffled screams as you were blinded by white and your arms wrapped around his neck. As your pussy quivered around him, Eddie mewled your name into your ear till you felt him paint your insides with his release.
As soon as the other man pulls out, Steve lifts you under your arms and moves you around until you’re on top of him straddling his waist. His large palms cling to your hips as you lower yourself onto his length, your movements stuttering slightly at the sensitivity of your last orgasm. 
“You got this, pretty girl. Take all the time you need. You just have to be quiet.”
“T-Tell me stories, Daddy, please. I wanna hear ‘em.”
Eddie breathily chuckled as he rolled over till he was on his back beside Steve. 
“Steve had never done anything dominate with anyone before so I would let him practice with me. Sometimes, sweetheart, when he would fuck me I would tell him to pretend I was you. Boy, did he have a filthy fucking mouth.”
“Y-You liked it.”, he giggled as his head tilted to kiss the man’s lips. “I would say how you belonged to us. How I wanted you on your knees choking on my dick. Fuck.”
“He would fuck me so hard, Y/N, I would feel him for weeks. Like a silent reminder that we belonged to each other.”
Gripping the back of your neck, Steve yanked you down till your cheek was between his and Eddie’s. 
“And that you belonged to us.”, he whispered as his hips thrust up roughly punctuating his words. “A quiet promise—fuck—of what we would give you when we got out.”
“Please…”
A wicked grin spread across his face as the metalhead pushed your panties back into your mouth before Steve covered it with his other hand. 
The obscene sound of skin hitting skin filled the room as he slammed his cock deep within you causing your eyes to roll as your head hung as much as it could. 
“That’s right, baby girl. You take Daddy’s cock. Good girl. I can feel it, honey. Cum. Cum on Daddy’s cock, Y/N.” You do as he commands, your throat vibrating as you tried to be heard through the gag and Steve’s palm. “Atta girl. Let it go. Ride it out for as l-long as you can. Shit—I’m gonna cum.”
The man’s arms wrapped around your waist as his rhythm faltered and he thrust his spend into your now overstimulated cunt. Fingers reached between your sweaty frames and removed the gag from your mouth. 
“Such a good girl. You ok, sweetheart?”
“She…She said yeah. Fuck that was good.”, Steve answered for you after you whispered the answer exhaustedly in his ear. 
“As always.”, Eddie beams as he starts to take you in his arms, chuckling when you groan. “I know, I’m the worst person. Come on, babe, you need a bath. Steve, you wanna get her some water and check on Olivia?”
While the pretty boy does what he asked, the metalhead quickly gets a bath ready and places you inside the water, smiling softly when you sigh in pleasure. 
“We, uh, we didn’t just talk about you sexually on the inside. I feel like I should tell you that.”
Your eyes blink as he sits beside you, now in a pair of his blue boxers. 
“What else do you two talk about?”, you ask as you lean forward and run your fingers along the arm he had resting along the porcelain. 
“We wondered how we would have met you if we hadn’t of been locked up. You worked at The Hideout and I used to play there. Maybe you would have seen me up there playing my guitar or you would have served me a drink.”
“You were a law student and knowing my dad I probably would have been working with him.”, Steve added as he entered the bathroom and sat on the edge as he handed you the glass of water that you chugged down. “Olivia’s still asleep… I probably would have run into you at the Hawkins Library doing some research for a case or something.”
“We’d definitely be self-conscious at first but act like we were a confident badass.”
“Why would you be self-conscious?”, you giggle. 
“Because you’re beautiful, smart, and young with your whole life ahead of you.”, Eddie answered as he reached up to caress your cheek and you kissed his palm. “We’d just be some old assholes—”
“Eddie.”, you scold making him softly smile. 
Steve bent down to carefully lift you out of the water, placing you on your feet to dry you off. 
“More than anything, Y/N, we talked about this life here. Living with you in our own little house while our kids wreak havoc.”, he chuckles as he focuses on his task. 
“W-Would you want to have more kids with me?”
When they glance at each other before looking up at you, you know they’ve already had this conversation amongst themselves. 
“Of course.”, Eddie murmurs as he carries you into the bedroom and picks up the other man’s shirt off the floor to tug over your head. “Of course, sweetheart. Olivia is so fucking amazing and you’re a wonderful mom. We’d love to have a couple more little Munson/Harrington kids running around…”
“But…”
Pushing you back, they climb under the covers with you as the metalhead pulls your back to his chest while Steve moves some stray hair away from your face. 
“What if we have to run again? What if we get caught and you’re left to raise these kids alone? What if—hey…”, Steve tuts in a firm tone as you sigh in annoyance. “Stop. Y/N, we literally fought to have the life we have now and we’d do anything to keep it.”
“We’re just worried, baby.”, Eddie adds. “There’s a lot of risk bringing another little life into our world.”
“I love you both…so much…I won’t push but…whenever you’re ready I’m ready.”
Both men smile at you as your eyes steadily close and you fall asleep.
###################
“Hey Miss Franklin!”, the daycare administrator greets you as you walk in beaming through the front door.
“Hey Tasha. How was my little monster today?”
“She was good. Told the other kids her father fought dragons.”, the lady giggles as you playfully roll your eyes. “Let me go grab her.”
As your eyes scan over the children playing, you notice the administrator’s demeanor stiffen while talking to one of the other ladies before nervously smiling your way.
“Miss Franklin, Lily says Olivia’s uncle came to pick her up about an hour ago.”
Your heart drops as your eyes widen.
“Uncle?”
“Yeah…tall fellow about your age.” As she continued to describe him, the bile in your throat began to rise as anger clouded your brain. 
“Did he give you a name?”
“Uh, yeah it’s right here.”, she replies cautiously as she shows you the sign out sheet. 
Derek  
Speeding down the road and running every red light, you practically swerve into the dealership, sprinting inside to find the guys. Steve notices you first, his protective mode kicking in as he grabs your wrist and tells the front desk to send the other man to his office. 
“Y/N, honey, I can’t understand you when you talk fast like that. What’s going on with Olivia?”
Eddie hastily enters, the door slamming behind him as he steps forward to cup your cheeks. 
“What’s going on?”
“The daycare said Olivia’s uncle came to pick her up.”
“Who?”, he growls. 
“Derek’s name was on the sheet.”, you grumbled matching his anger. 
Steve’s office phone rings and he recognizes the number immediately, answering it and placing it on speaker. 
“Hello?”
“Hi, dada!”, Olivia shouts excitedly causing you to let out a sigh of relief that at least she sounded ok and wasn’t hurt. 
“Hey, honey. What are you doing home without mommy?”, he asks trying to sound calm. 
“Uncle Derek picked me up! When are you comin’ home? He wants to talk to mommy.”
“Baby, is he nearby? Can I talk to him?”, you inquire, listening to her little voice speak to someone in the background before a gruff tone pulled through. 
“Hey, babe. Long time no see.”
“If you hurt her, Derek, I swear to fucking God…”
“You must think so little of me. I don’t want to do anything to her. That’s why I tried to give her a better life with a better father.”
“Fuck you, you fucking dick—“, Eddie cut in before Steve grabbed his wrist.
“Ah good. Edward is there to or should I say Ronnie and Ben.”, he snickered. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?! Your dad reneged on our deal since you disappeared and my family lost everything. EVERYTHING, Y/N!”
At his outburst, you hear your daughter whine and both men’s eyes grow dark with fury.
“What do you want?”
“I’m at your house. Come here so we can talk. If you aren’t here in an hour I’ll take her back home with me to your father.”
“This was a mistake.”, you growled. 
“Maybe, Y/N. Maybe but for once in your fucking life you’re going to hear what I have to say. Olivia! Say goodbye to your parents.”
“Are they coming home?”, she asks cautiously.
“Yes, sweetheart. We’ll be there soon.”, Eddie answers her and his eyes close as he listens to her laugh. “I love you, Olivia.”
“Love you to, daddy. Love you, dada and mommy!”
The phone hangs up before you or Steve can reply.
“We have an hour…”, the metalhead says more to himself then you two. “I have guns stashed away a couple of miles from the house—”
“You are not pulling a gun with my daughter in that house.”, you hiss. 
“What do we do, Y/N? He’s not going to let us go and even if he was…he kidnapped our daughter. He’ll be lucky if he leaves the house still fucking breathing.”, Steve retorts in a dark tone you had never heard from him before.
“I’m not saying I disagree but I refuse to let any of this affect her. As far as she knows she’s a normal child and I want to keep it that way.”
“Then answer his question, Y/N. What the fuck do you want us to do!?”
##################
@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @rockmusiciscalming12 @mikeyswifie @poofyloofy @eddiexmunsonlover @dreamliners @munsonmoonshine86 @bexreadstoomuch @kitkat80 @myherometalhead @hardladyheart @sheisjoeschateau @chelebelletx @yesimabratandwhataboutot @cherryxhaze @utterlyinsanity
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cash-legacy · 3 days ago
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SOGUE MAGAZINE, WINTER 2024
The Blood of the Innocent: Judith Ward's Dirty Little Secret
(For the Occultify a Sim challenge in the Occult Simblr Discord)
Nobody will forget the feeling of seeing their childhood favorite movie star twenty years later. The nostalgia of seeing their face, the weird awareness of your own mortality as you take in the new wrinkles and lines. Did she have those kids when she filmed that movie? Were they really that young? I'm older than he was when he filmed that one show... But one Del Sol face has yet to bear the scars of time - the ever-iconic Judith Ward. In our interview, Ward told me exactly how she's stayed just so young and lovely: consensual Vampirism.
Want more? Read the rest of the article below the cut!
This announcement comes at a complicated time for Simerica, as anti-Occult sentiments have spread across the nation like wildfire, and public opinion has shifted away from their support. Vampires especially, known for their "inborn" violent tendencies towards ordinary Sims, face a great deal of discrimination in many regions. Some Sims view this as a safety measure, a means of keeping natural killers away from their families. Recent legislation has attempted to make this a national issue, as opposed to a region-specific one, as proposed by senators Victor Feng and Anne Thorne, of San Myshuno and Copperdale respectively. Others sympathize with the Occult cause. Feng and Thorne's bill failed to get the required majority, but it was close. Many Sims on both sides of the political spectrum felt that the vote should have swung one way or another, and celebrities across Simerica have taken to speaking their piece. Judith Ward's, however, may be the most personal - and impactful - of them all. We conducted our interview at Ward's Del Sol house:
WHY NOW? "Now is precisely the right time to speak up about these things. Sims across the nation are wondering what to believe, and who to trust. And they know they can trust me. If being open about what I am convinces even a single Sim to join the cause and protect my people, it will have been worth all the backlash I expect to face." YOU CALLED IT CONSENSUAL VAMPIRISM. EXPLAIN THAT? "It's true that untrained or under-educated Vampires can cause massive harm to populations, especially in small towns. But the solution to that problem isn't punishing them, or stripping them of their resources. We've seen what happens when you do that. It's why we've had this moment of tension in the first place. But when provided the resources needed to survive harmlessly, Vampires are no more dangerous than any other Sim." BUT... "CONSENSUAL?" "I keep a few Sims in my employ. Times are tough, and I pay handsomely. It's in cooperation with a private medical practice, they're thoroughly informed beforehand, and it's all quite sterile and ethical, don't you worry." TELL ME ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCE WITH VAMPIRISM. "I admit, when I first signed up for it, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. It was frightening. The transformation can be quite painful, particularly in the first few days. I've had some issues with work, too. I have to film daylight scenes in short bursts, or on soundstages. I've lost more than a few roles because of it. But I've got it easy, all things considered. My heart really goes out to all those who don't have such flexibility in their careers."
It's hard to say for certain where Occult politics will lead. Polling is wildly polarized across and within regions, and extremism on both sides is rampant. More and more prominent social figures are taking stances, and Judith Ward certainly won't be the last. Only time will tell which way the political compass will turn. See you next time, LINCOLN BROADSHEET
CelebCrave: Sogue Journalist Fired After Political Tantrum!
"They wildly misrepresented me," complained former Sogue interviewer Lincoln Broadsheet, in a recent Social Bunny post. "I didn't approve the cover or the title... It's incredibly hurtful to see such a prominent magazine ignore my intentions as a writer like this... And they fired me over it. Writers like me get fired for trying to provide the truth, instead of writing for clicks." Read the full Social Bunny thread here: Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites replying to @[...] They wildly misrepresented me and Judith. It was a huge lapse in judgment from Sogue, and their decision to fire me when I protested was irresponsible. 1/8 Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites I didn't approve the cover or the title. My articles are always unbiased, especially when they're about such decisive subjects. It's incredibly hurtful to see such a prominent magazine ignore my intentions as a writer like this. 2/8 Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites I couldn't sit by without speaking out, and they fired me over it. It hurts to see how many Sims don't care about misinformation and biased reporting. These issues are rampant, and writers like me get fired for trying to provide the truth, instead of writing for clicks. 3/8 [...]
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