#leighann talks

[legendofthe3divas]

I was half watching ‘this morning’ idk why I was just bored, I guess, and it was just there. BUT ‘don’t say love’ was the outtro going into the adverts. Sorry but I’m loving the promo and popularity of Leigh, it melts my heart <3

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap five/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Whiskey & Cigars

summary: Trying to keep your promise to thank Steve for fixing your sink, you aren’t expecting him to have company when you show up at his front gate after work.

wc: 5k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters but none really for this one. Drinking, cigar smoking, flirting and wait.. is that an almost kiss?? 🤭

authors note: the idea of this chapter is what sparked the entire series, i’ve been so excited to write this one and share it with you. I hope you guys love it, we’re half way through so you know what that means? (things actually start happening lol) But Leighanne, I want to date this older!eddie too! Guess what? You can in @carolmunson ‘s orange colored sky 🧡

🌇 <- chapter four ->chapter six

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The tune:

The box of tacos is warm in your hands, the package of cannoli’s you snagged on your way home from work moving around in your backpack as you step off the train. You take a shaky breath as you make your way towards your block, your feet taking you to his house. The nerves of him not expecting you has you talking yourself off the ledge the entire walk. Does he really like fish tacos? Was he just trying to be nice? What if he’s busy? What if he’s not even home?

Your overthinking is silenced the moment you hit your street, the string lights of his front porch catch in your sight, while the sounds of Eddie Money echo down the steps filling the quiet and hitting your ears. He was home, but he wasn’t alone.

You slow your pace when you get close enough to smell the smoke of his cigar, and hear the deep baritone of his full belly laugh. Another voice chimes in, it’s raspier, darker, and definitely not a woman’s. The unruly pang of jealousy that hits your gut subsides when you reach your apartment and he finally comes into view. 

His hair is messier than you’ve ever seen it, the gray and honey highlights sticking out at the ends like he’s spent the whole night running those big hands through it. His cheeks are flushed with what looks like the end of a fun day with friends, a half smoked cigar tucked between his teeth that show themselves in a wide grin for the man sitting on his porch steps next to him. 

He leans on the top step by his elbows,your thighs pressing together when the silver chain that’s usually hidden under his shirt swings over the soft blue tee that fits tight across chest when he laughs again. His cream jeans are loose fitting, stretching at his thighs with dark gray house slippers on his feet.

The guy next to him is not who you’d expect to find, he looks around the same age, gray streaks shining under the porch light in the dark curls that rest tied back in a loose low hanging bun. His chocolate eyes shine with excitement while ring and tattoo covered hands gesture wildly with his story, the ash at the end of his cigar is dangerously close to falling onto the wood of the porch. 

Steve picks up the ashtray between the two glasses of a dark liquor like it’s second nature, lifting it up for his friend, making you notice the silver chain that dangles around his wrist when he takes the offering. He’s dressed in all black, a contrast to the light colors of Steve’s wardrobe with a pressed Judas Priest band tee that sits half tucked into the tops of his Chino shorts that fall right above his knee. Black socks and black slides covering his feet. 

Bandit’s the first to notice you from his spot on the giant rug by the front door when you reach the gate. His ears perk as he sits up, paws dropping one after the other in excitement. A high pitch whine escapes him, catching Steve’s attention. Steve plucks the cigar from his mouth, looking at Bandit before finally following the dog’s line of sight to you. There was no getting out of this now.

You feel like you won some kind of prize at the size of Steve’s smile, lopsided with rosy cheeks pushed up and eyes crinkling in the corners. He sets his cigar down, ignoring the confused look his friend is giving him before sitting up, running a hand through his hair making it stand on end even more.

“She’s alive!” He does his best impression of Dr. Frankenstein sticking his arms out in front of him and you see the man next to him grimace before taking a puff and turning his attention on to you. Curious dark eyes watch Steve and Bandit go to meet you at the gate. 

“Yes, I somehow survived.” You can’t help but giggle, making the man on the porch shoot his eyebrows up. All the nerve you worked up on the way here is gone when your neighbor gets close enough for you to see the stubble you like so much is back. 

“I hope the Au Cheval burger helped with that,” he breaths with a smirk, his eyes landing on the to go box that’s threatening to succumb to the iron grip in your hand. “Is that what I think it is?”

Too caught up in how his eyes seem to light up when he asks, it takes you a minute to register that he’s talking about the fish tacos in your hand. 

“Oh!! - Sorry - Yes, I didn’t know you had company tonight. I have cannolis in my bag too, I don’t wanna interrupt anything - I can, I can just leave them with you.” Bandit jumps onto the gate while you stutter your words, suddenly feeling sixteen again. The heat of his friend's stare makes you shuffle around in place. 

Steve opens his mouth ready to protest but he’s interrupted before he gets a chance to say anything. 

“Harrington! You gonna invite the pretty girl up for a drink or what?”

The heat rises to your cheeks as you busy yourself with scratching Bandit behind the ear with a free hand. Steve lets out a breath through his nose before pinching the bridge of it. His ears turning red like the cherries on the ends of the cannoli’s in your bag.

“Sorry about my friend.” He takes another beat before he looks up, his eyes smoldering against yours, hope hidden inside the golden specks. “I was going to actually ask you if you’d like to come up for a drink, I promise he’s harmless. He met his wife shopping at Trader Joe’s.” 

You can’t hold back your laugh, not used to seeing this playful side of him- the sipper on his porch loosening up his nerves. His grin spreads wide at your reaction, and he’s opening the gate before you can even respond because he already knows the answer.

“I happen to love Trader Joe’s, Steve.” Narrowing your eyes at him as you make your way in. He takes the opportunity to grab the to-go box from your hands just in time for you to accept Bandit’s big paws.

“Bandit!” He hisses, stealing your move with a roll of his eyes at his rambunctious dog, closing the gate while you keep him distracted. “I’m more of a Whole Foods guy myself.”

“Of course you are,” you scoff with a condescending laugh, desperately trying not to meet the eyes of the man who’s been watching you this whole time.

“What? I like having a beer when I shop. Does that make me an asshole or something?” He tries to defend himself but he only validates you more and he knows it  by the way you smirk at him.

He tries to act offended and not think about how cute it is that you haven’t stopped petting Bandit the whole walk to his front steps.

“Yes, it does make you an asshole.” The raspy voice from before interjects and you can’t hide from his curiosity when you both stop at his feet. A warm smile meets your eyes when you finally look at him, a puff of smoke exhaling through his pierced nose.

Steve’s eye roll is real this time.

“This is Eddie,” he sighs, introducing you to the mystery man, “We’ve been friends since high school, and he’s just jealous he moved to New York where you can’t shop and drink at the same time.”

Your cheeks push up at his banter, all the color in his face seems brighter tonight, his shoulders are relaxed. No longer constricted by a tight work shirt, or weighed down by loneliness - Steve is happy.

“Best friends since high school,” Eddie corrects him, setting his cigar down before opening his hands out for Bandit who abandoned you the second you reached him. 

“Hi,” you greet, trying not to sound as awkward as you feel, silently begging for your next joke to land, “I’m Steve’s neighbor and I hate to break it to you, also Bandit’s new best friend.” 

Eddie snorts, eyes twinkling when he catches the way your lips twitch when you hear Steve’s laugh next to you. 

“I was wondering who he was ditching me for.” He narrows his gaze a little as he sizes Steve up who seems to be focusing on anything but his friend before choosing to set his sights on you. 

“I’m going to go put these in the kitchen for now, I’ll grab you a glass. Thank you for this honey, you really didn’t need to.” His hand reaches out to squeeze your arm like after your hug the other morning. Goosebumps form under his palm when his thumb rubs the softness of your skin gently before letting go.

“It’s the least I could do, seriously you’ve been such a help.” You take your backpack off, the breeze making your shirt unstick from your back. “Don’t forget the cannoli’s.”

“Cannoli’s too? My, my Stevie boy. You must be quite the neighbor,” his friend chimes in, picking up his cigar again.

“Eddie,” Steve scolds just like he did Bandit, grabbing the pastries from you with an apologetic look that you wave off.

He stomps as he makes his way up the steps shooting his friend a glare. Eddie just smirks around the tobacco, leaning back with a raise of his eyebrows and a shrug.

The front door sounds heavy when it closes behind Steve, leaving the two of you alone. It’s quiet, but not for long, the gears in his head moving as he chooses his words before speaking. The crickets chirping in the grass and the hum of distant cars make your palms sweat.

“He must’ve done something real nice to get his favorite dessert hand delivered by his pretty next door neighbor.”

Your gaze narrows, a small smirk forming.

“I never told you I lived next door.” 

Eddie’s smooth facade cracks for a minute when he realizes he gave away what he already knew about you, letting you know that Steve must talk about you.

“He fixed my sink if you must know,” you tease, letting him off the hook, unable to hold back the smile that takes over your face when he barks out a loud laugh.

“How neighborly of him,” he hums around his cigar. 

The door’s opening before the conversation can go any further, a glass of the same dark liquor they’re drinking in Steve’s hand. Eddie catches the slight wrinkle of your nose at it chuckling to himself when you shoot him a look.

“I see he didn’t scare you off yet. That’s great.” Steve grins at the tattooed man, who smiles back with his teeth.

“I don’t know if I could have lasted much longer,” you sigh with fake annoyance, taking the glass from Steve, your stomach going off like fireworks on the fourth of july when your fingers brush, “Thank god you’re back.” 

The laugh you earn has you wanting to make him do it again.

“Why don’t you take a drink of that delicious Johnny Walker Blue label I saw you eyeing when he brought it out?” Eddie raises his glass in a silent challenge. 

Steve’s brows furrow when he looks at his friend in confusion, missing the way you’re scolding Eddie from behind his back.

“I would love to, Eddie, I thought you’d never ask.” You raise your glass in acceptance, already regretting it.

Placing the crystal to your glossed lip, the smell of it makes your gut churn with flashes of your hangover from the other night. You watch the realization wash over Steve’s face when the liquor hits your tongue in the smallest of sips.

“Oh no, that’s probably not what you want to drink after the other night, huh?” His concern dares to crumble when his lips twitch as he tries not to smile. 

“Don’t look at me like that Steve!” Your own smile breaks through your embarrassment.

“Jesus Harrington, go take your girl to get something she’ll actually enjoy,” Eddie laughs, extending his hand out to take your glass, his own now empty. 

Your girl. That’s my girl. Your face and neck heat up at the words again.

“It’s fine! This is okay, I can drink it!” You try to drive your point home by taking another sip, just for your face to give you away again.

“Honey,” Steve chuckles, taking the glass from your hands. “You don’t have to pretend to like it. I’m not offended.”

“I’m sorry, I just usually like something a little bit sweeter.” Your confession makes Steve’s cheeks dust pink.

“Of course you do.”

Steve’s place is intimidating, the overhead pendant light is dim in the entryway. Big paintings hang in perfect placements along his light gray walls that lead up a dark stained wooden staircase. The music is quieter inside, the smell of cedar hitting your nose from the crackling candle he has lit in the living room that you only get a small glimpse of as he leads you to his kitchen. 

He flips the middle switch and only one set of overhead lights turn on, matching the mood of the rest of the house. You take in the giant island in the middle of the kitchen, white paneling that matches the tile below your feet, topped with black marble that sparkles under the low light. The box of cannolis you brought him sits in the middle.

He stops at the stainless steel fridge, shoulder blades moving under his shirt when he opens the door with a firm grip that makes his forearm flex, the harsh brightness polluting the dark. You both squint for a second letting your eyes adjust, the low hum of the fridge drowns out the way your heart beats in your chest.

You were in his house. 

“Are you a margarita girl?” His voice is too smooth to startle you, something softer in it like this. His eyes meet yours with a lopsided grin in an attempt to soothe your obvious nerves. 

“Depends on if you have salt for the rim.” Letting your back hit the countertop, you fake difficulty. 

“Do I have salt for the rim? Please, honey. I’m not in my twenties.” He scoffs shutting the fridge with a lime and what looks like a homemade mixer in hand. The way you giggle for him makes him feel like he might have a chance.

“I’m just making sure is all.” You roll your eyes at him for the first time tonight, and he can’t wait to make you do it again. Addicted to the smile you try to hide, always giving yourself away.

“I’ll make it how you like it.” 

He walks towards you, invading your space just enough to smell the way the spice of his cologne mixes with the expensive whiskey on his breath. Freeing his hands of the ingredients he looks down the hard line of his nose, glazed mossy eyes taking in your face like he’s never got to really do it like this before. The wild stray falls loose and your hand twitches at your side wanting to be the one to brush it away from his forehead this time.

“I promise.”

The twitch of his lips lets you know he heard your breath catch before walking away to get you a glass and a shaker. You exhale through your nose when you get a break from his attention. Was this happening? Was he flirting?

There’s a salt rimmed glass filled with crushed ice in his hands when he comes back, too lost in your own head you didn’t even hear him do all of that. He gets close enough for his shoulder to brush against yours, the tension making your fingertips buzz. 

“This okay?” He asks, eyes avoiding yours as he slices the lime. “You zoned out a little, just want to make sure you feel comfortable is all.”

“Yeah - I - sorry, I kinda get lost in my own head sometimes.” You turn your body to face him, admiring the sharp lines of his jaw from the side, the hint of crows feet from years of laughter that meet the tip of his high cheek bone, the never ending expanse of freckles and moles that dot his skin. “I mean I could have kept those cannolis for myself and left, so what do you think?”

He snorts through his nose, measuring out the shot before pouring it in the glass.

“I ate one already.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Steve! Dessert before dinner? What are you on vacation or something?” Your laugh makes his face light up, pouring the mixer a little heavy handed just for you.

“What can I say? I was craving something sweet." He makes sure to look at you when he says it, begging you to catch the double meaning before dumping everything into a silver shaker.

His eyes watch the way your bottom lip tucks between your teeth at his words to try and hide your smile before he starts the loud process of mixing your drink. You don’t look away from him this time, holding his stare. It pours out smooth over the ice when he’s done, squeezing another slice of lime for good measure over the top. Pushing it towards you, he leans on the counter with his elbow to watch.

“Let’s see what you think.”

You give him your best poker face, your fingers wrapping around the now chilled glass. Pieces of salt fall off the rim when you bring it to your lips. He straightens up, grinning proudly at the way your brows marry together when it hits your tongue. You can barely taste the tequila, the sweetness of the mixer hiding all evidence while the sour of the lime balances the whole thing out. It was the best margarita you’d ever had.

“Wow,” you finally get out after you’ve had enough, only to have part of your sip dribble down onto your chin. 

“Careful.” He chuckles, taking the glass from you, his eyes meeting yours with something unknown swimming in them. 

He gets closer — close enough to feel the heat of his breath fan across your lips, for the tips of his slippers to touch the tops of your sneakers. Your favorite stray still taunts you, begs you to take care of it but it’s his hand that raises first. The pad of his thumb swiping across your chin, cleaning up what you left behind. 

“Is it sweet enough for you tough girl?” His voice comes out low, a question just for your ears. 

Your answer is lost on the tip of your tongue when he brings his thumb to his mouth. Pink lips wrapping around it before sucking it clean. 

“Steve - “ your fingers go to hook in his belt loops, your body demanding him closer before your brain can stop the movements.

“Hone-“ he starts, but someone clears their throat in the doorway.

Your hands drop expecting to hear the deep tenor of Eddie’s voice, only to be met with the silky softness of a woman’s.

“Steven! Who is this??” It comes out sweet like the drink he made, and it makes the man in front of you sigh. Whatever was going to happen is gone. 

“This is my neighbor.” He gives, not trying to hide his annoyance, and when you turn around it only seems to make her smile more.

“This is Eddie’s wife Peach.” Steve introduces, finally running a hand through his hair and you can’t help the pang of jealousy that you didn’t get to do it. 

Peach smiles brightly at you, extending a dainty hand and the rock on her wedding ring catches in the overhead light. She’s gorgeous and almost out of his league, but the way she gives Steve the same knowing eyebrow wiggle makes you realize quickly they’re a match made in heaven.

“Well now I want a margarita Steve.” She crosses her arms winking at you, relishing in the groan Steve gives her.

He wanted to kiss you, but bargained with himself that maybe this was the universe giving him the sign that it wasn’t time yet.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” You don’t mean for it to sound so shy when it comes out of your mouth, but you needed a minute alone to catch your breath. 

“Yeah of course honey, it’s just down the hall right past the staircase.” He points down the doorway you both came from, grabbing your fingers and squeezing gently before busying himself with making another drink.

You're halfway down the hallway when you hear Peaches in the kitchen.

“That’s her??”

The bathroom is smaller than you thought it’d be. It’s only a half, meant for guest use, that part is obvious with the lack of a shower inside. It’s still nicer than the one in your one bedroom, the crisp white towels that hang on silver racks look almost untouched. The deep stone sink in front of the mirror makes you feel like you’re in a spa. 

You stare at yourself in the big oval mirror. He was going to kiss you, right?

You can hear the faint sounds of the two of them talking in the kitchen, choosing to stay hidden until the rate of your heart slows down to something less likely to make you pass out. Their feet shuffle against the wooden floor by the entryway before the sound of the front door opening hits your ears.

The light knock on the bathroom door makes you jump, his voice slipping through the cracks of it.

“Hey sweetheart, we’re going back to the porch. I’ve got your drink whenever you come out.” There’s a hint of worry in his tone, was he thinking about it too?

“I’ll be out in just a sec!” 

He lingers by the door for a minute before you hear his heavy steps head outside. You take one more look at yourself in the mirror, straightening out your work shirt, and pulling down the ends of your skirt before turning around to check from behind. 

“Okay, you’re cool. Just be cool. He was totally gonna kiss you and that’s fine,” you whisper to yourself before checking your breath just in case it happens again. 

Your hand lingers on the door knob for a second before you finally work up enough courage to face him again.

🌃🌃🌃

The front door is cracked open when you emerge from the bathroom, their voices battling over the low playing music inside.

“What do you mean you haven’t asked her for her number yet Steve?” Eddie’s question makes you stop in your tracks.

“Can you talk any louder?” Steve half whispers and half yells, making Peach giggle. 

“It’s obvious you both are into each other -“ Eddie starts again only to be cut off by his wife.

“I swear they were about to kiss in the kitchen, Ed.” 

The way Steve stays quiet tells you that it wasn’t just in your head.

“Look, I just - I don’t know.” He sighs deeply, and you can practically see the way he’s probably running a stressed hand through his hair.

“Steve..” his best friend's tone goes soft, “It’s been long enough, you’re not a bad person for having feelings for someone again. You and I both know Emma would want that for you. I see the way you look at this girl, I haven’t seen you look at someone like that in over a decade.” 

Since his wife.

Steve laughs a little and you hear the ice in his cup clink against the glass signaling him taking a drink before he answers, “Yeah, I know.”

There’s a second of silence and you wonder what his face looks like right now. 

“Look, you’re going on that camping trip next week right? Ask her to water your plants or something while you’re gone, then you can get her number that way. That’s less scary right?” The teasing edge to Peach’s words are gone, she’s gentle with the way she speaks to him.

“Yeah, I mean, that’s a normal thing neighbors ask right?” 

“Totally!” Eddie chimes in enthusiastically making you have to muffle your giggle.

You decide to open and close the bathroom door again to alert them of your presence when you feel like your eavesdropping has gone on long enough. 

Steve clears his throat and you catch the end of his silent scolding to his friends when you step outside. He smiles but there’s something missing from it when he holds up your drink from his place on the porch swing, Bandit curled up at his feet. 

“There she is!” He teases, desperately trying to bring the mood back to what it was before.

“I didn’t fall in if you can believe it,” your response comes out more awkward than intended, laughing nervously while taking your drink. You wonder if it’s obvious that you heard everything when you dare to take the spot next to him. Thighs and shoulders pressing together, your mind races with the new information.

Steve, your handsome older neighbor, the one who works for the Cubs, the one who drives a BMW to work every morning, the guy who fixes your sink and sends you dorky notes likes you. The weight of his guilt is the only thing holding him back from making a real move and it’s hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that the silly crush you’d been harboring is returned.

“Didn’t anyone tell you not to comment on how long a lady’s in the bathroom Harrington?” Eddie teases breaking the ice, making Steve flush deep crimson from his neck to his ears.

“That’s not - that’s not what I meant,” he grumbles inside his glass, the smooth confidence from inside the kitchen now gone.

You squeeze his knee gently with a giggle, the thick hair tickling your palm. 

Eddie takes control of the conversation for the rest of the time it takes you to finish your drink, Peach interjecting every now and then to roast him when he’s telling a story wrong. You half listen to as much of it all as you can, but it’s hard to focus when you can feel the way Steve keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye, turning away everytime you go to meet his gaze. 

He keeps his thigh pressed to yours despite there being more than enough room on the swing, the sides of your feet tapping together on the porch. The heat of his body and the strength of the nice tequila hit after a long day all at once, a yawn escaping you in the middle of another one of Eddie’s bike trip stories.

“If I’m boring you just say something, jeez,” Eddie teases, a warm smile spread over his plump lips.

“Sorry!” Embarrassment warms your cheeks, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, “It’s just been a long day at work and I think the late night is just hitting me.”

“I’m teasing, kid. I have stories like these that I could tell for weeks. Go get some sleep.” He pulls his wife deeper into his side, her eyelids droopy like yours. “I think the Mrs is ready too anyway.”

Steve’s hand spreads over your back, the warmth of his palm rubbing up and down the dip of your spine making you hum.

“I’ll walk you home honey.”

🌃🌃🌃

Your staircase feels never ending, both of you slightly out of breath when you get to the top. Turning around at your front door to face him, both of you smile, trying not to laugh at the sheen of sweat on your foreheads. 

“That seemed harder that time, no?” Steve breaks the silence sounding winded.

“I think maybe it has something to do with the liquor and the pastries, but I could be wrong.”

His laugh is booming, making you giggle while you try to shush him out of courtesy of your neighbors who are fast asleep. 

“Sorry, sorry!” He whispers, a smirk that tells you he’s really not tugging at his lips, his eyes meeting yours the way they did in the kitchen.

You don’t know when he got this close or how your back ended up pressed against your front door. It’s silent between you, but the comfortable kind. Words not ready to be said out loud being exchanged through looks and the tips of his fingers brushing against yours.

“Thank you again for bringing me dinner, that was very sweet of you.” His voice is soft like his touches.

“It’s not a problem. It’s the least I could do really.” You look up at him from under your lashes, you’re ready for what was meant to happen in the kitchen now.

He hums a little to himself, interlacing your fingers with his. His eyebrows knitting together like he’s deep in thought. 

“Listen, I’m going on this camping trip next week with Bandit. Peaches would kill me if I let those plants die, maybe you wouldn’t mind coming by once to water them? I can give you my number, that way you know, we can talk about details or if something else breaks in your apartment.” He lets out a shaky laugh, and you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“Gimme your phone Steve.”

His eyes widen and you can’t believe he’s shocked you said yes. He lets go of you to dig it out of his pocket, and you try to stifle a laugh at how frantic he seems.

You save your number under Tough Girl before handing it back to him with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth watching the way it makes his cheeks turn red when he reads it.

“I’ll - um text you with the dates,” he stutters a little slowly, backing away. 

“You could also just text me.” You shrug and it makes him miss the top step, catching himself on the railing. 

“Good to know.” The smile he gives you knocks the air out of your lungs. “Have a good night, tough girl.”

——

It’s only an hour later when you’re in bed, halfway asleep when you hear your phone buzz next to you. You wonder if he can see the way you smile like an idiot at your bright screen.

--

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beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

eddie munson edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

chapter six

[arwainian]

Reading This Week 2024 #5

orange means actually read, blue means skimmed. i am so deeply in the grad school reading hole it is So/Too Much and i have to read and grade student papers this coming week...

Finished:

The Book of Disappearance by Ibtisam Azem, translated by Sinan Antoon

said my thoughts on this last week! i will add that unfortunately at times the translation is sloppy/there were many typos.. i still really liked the book

Ouran High School Host Club, Vol. 6 by Bisco Hatori, translated by Naomi Kokubo & Eric-Jon Rössel Waugh

just a fun read. debating if i should just read whatever next volume is available through my library, even tho its not the next one

Orange, Vol. 3 by Ichigo Takano, translated by Amber Tamosaitis

held my breath and got through the moment that i stopped reading on a few weeks prior and got past it! the story remains cute!

Started and Finished:

"Gender, Race and the Regulation of Native Identity in Canada: An Overview" by Bonita Lawrence

Giving an Account of Oneself by Judith Butler

"What is an Author?" by Michel Foucault

Introduction & Afterword from Critical Discourses by David Sancher

"Hansel and Gretel" and "The Juniper Tree" from Grimm's Fairy Tales

"Morphology of Folktales" by Vladimir Propp

"Theory as Liberatory Practice" by bell hooks

"The Attempted Dispossession of Kwe" Chapter 3 of As We Have Always Done: Indigenous Freedom through Radical Resistance by Leanne Betasamosake Simpson

"The Man of Professional Wisdom" by Kathryn Pyne Addelson

"Whose Words? Whose Reality?: THe Politics of Representation and Interpretation" Chapter 3 of Ethical Dilemmas in Feminist Research: The Politics of Location, Interpretation, and Publication by Gesa E. Kirsch

"Trapped in the Wrong Theory: Rethinking Trans Oppression and Resistance" by Talia Mae Bettcher

^^ really liked this one

The Hungry Tide by Amitav Ghosh

what a page turner! and thank god it was bc it was 333 pages and i had to get through it all last week... wish me luck with the 360 pages book i have to read this week

I Think Our Son Is Gay, Vol. 4 by Okura, translated by Leighann Harvey

continue to find this very cute, and every time i read this series it reminds me of the wild feeling of my dad gifting me the first volume (being out to my parents has weird side effects like this)

"Postcolonial Studies and the Challenge of Climate Change" by Dipesh Chakrabarty

Selections from an Unfinished Book, "3,000 Years Among the Microbes" by Mark Twain, from Appendix V of Mark Twain: A Biography by Albert Bigelow Paine

^^WILD. human man shrunk down to microscopic scale talking about microbe society and philosphy

S.T. Coleridge on Fancy vs. Imagination

so many student paper proposals...

Ongoing:

Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift, specifically read the first 5 pages of part 2

Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree

read another chapter of this to the gf! every so often i interrupted myself to complain about weird word choices. seriously... "armed" used as a verb to mean "wipe sweat of one's forehead with their arm"???? bad

[kylejsugarman]

Hi syd!! ily and I hope you are having a great day! 💕💕💕💕

Ps. How does Jesse end up working with Sheila and how do Baby and Sheila get along?

hi leighanne i adore u!!!! ive been having a nice lazy day and it has been sick as hell 💕

so!! for the first couple of weeks in alaska, jesse basically doesnt leave his new place (ed left him a cache of supplies) for a lot of reasons and only very reluctantly goes into town for the first time because he's out of stuff. he stops off for groceries, then cigarettes from the general store and is walking back to his car when he sees a woman trying to get a chest of drawers through the door of one of the shops on the main street. she looks at him and says "you. come help me with this." jesse obliges because there's no way to run from this now and assists her in getting the chest un-stuck and into the shop.

it's a furniture shop, a sort of hybrid of antique store, restoration and repair place, and custom production store. he's kind of stunned: honestly, he didnt expect there to be anything in this town. then again, he doesnt know Anything about this place or even alaska at large. sheila immediately starts talking his ear off upon realizing that she's never seen him before, excited as hell to have another person to meet and know. jesse obviously doesnt tell her much and is initially dying to get tf out of there, but sheila is chummily determined to rope him into town. she makes them both some coffee (without being asked. she just makes it and gives him a mug and asks if he wants creamer or anything. it's so weird but it makes staying a little easier) and starts telling him about haines, where he can go for this and that, how things work here, has he settled in alright?? does he have a job?? jesse is like. "Um." because he hasn't been thinking that far (he truly can only think one day at a time rn) but he'll definitely need one. sheila immediately pounces on him and says that since she's added custom production to her shop, she's had trouble taking care of Everything by herself and has been thinking about hiring someone to work the store and help her with coordination and other tasks. he sheepishly admits that he actually kind of likes carpentry and building stuff and sheila basically HOWLS and is like "fate put u on my sidewalk, son!! they call this a miracle. oh, we're gonna be BEST friends. hold on, i have some cookies in my office, we need cookies—" even if this wasnt the kind of work he wanted to go into, sheila wouldn't have really given him a choice, but he kind of needs that direction and guidance right now

and sheila was made in a laboratory to be an aunt or a grandma. she and her wife bea don't have kids, but bea comes from a big family and has lots of nieces and nephews that sheila lives to spoil. she's aware of baby since demi's practice is down the street, but once she gets to know demi and baby a little better, sheila decides that she's going to be that kid's honorary aunt. sheila thinks baby is a hoot and wants to give her all the confidence and pride and security in the world (tbh sheila sort of believes that Everyone should act like Sheila). baby's never going to act like that, but it is good for her to have an adult around who is extremely self-confident and assertive to learn those traits from. for all of her brashness, sheila is extremely generous and very sweet to the whole family, but she loves to roll up to the function with a gift for baby and a "im gonna take this little sweet pea home with me" threat before she leaves the function. she loves that kid

[sims4simplestories]

The Leighanne family loves to sit together and talk <3 !!!! I love this family so much!

[jaysficarchive]

Villain's Wife Support Group

Chapter 4: Hollow's Eve

Synopsis: A day in the life of Eve.

@mayameanderings @calciumcryptid @floof-ghostie

Eve looked over the results of the day's heists. Jewelry, cash, designer clothing, even a few credit cards. She was proud of how the Railyard Ghouls outdid themselves each time. Who needed a group of elite, experienced henchmen when you had highly creative teenage girls?

"D' y' like it, Miss Eve?" LeighAnne, one of the Ghouls, asked. She was a young girl who had an obsession with vampires to the point where she wore fake teeth. "We worked really hard this time."

"I do. Ya girls did a good job." Eve set the gains aside for later.

It was just her and the girls since Hollow was on the run. Almost a month since his disappearance and authorities had no luck tracking him down. No matter what methods they employed, capturing the elusive fugitive seemed like a fever dream.

Not like Eve would tell them anything, either.

"We woulda got more if it weren't for that one girl that snake hired," Hortencia, another Ghoul, scoffed. She was around the same age as LeighAnne and the others as well as the leader of the Railyard Ghouls. "The hell was her name again?"

"Barracuda?" Eve replied.

"No, she got a new one. I'll think of her name later."

The snake in question was a woman who went by the name Diamondback, one of--if not the biggest--crime bosses in the South.

For years, a feud raged between Hollow and Diamondback. Everything started when she used his railroads to move her products. Diamondback bombed the tracks when the authorities tried to stop her. Hollow didn't like that. Not only was she on his turf, but also destroying tracks he worked so hard to lay.

As revenge, Hollow and the Railyard Ghouls attacked her trains ending in them either destroying or stealing her cargo. It filled him with delight everytime a train of hers went back to her empty.

In retaliation, Diamondback hired a woman named Barracuda, a former vigilante from Oaklahoma, to guard her contraband. Everything about her was more fearsome than her boss. From the way she carried herself to the violence from her hand. Rumor had it she shot her own sister and left her for dead.

Barracuda proved to be trouble for both Hollow and the Ghouls.

The recent battle was the reason he went on the run. Eve remembered it well. The plan was spectacular on paper but in person was even better. It ended with Barracuda getting shot in the chest twice at point blank range, the blown up train on fire, and several cops dead or injured. Better than fireworks in her opinion.

Many thought robberies by the Railyard Ghouls would stop with Hollow's absence. He always allowed them to escape so the police couldn't arrest them. Reporters called them a group of meek little wannabes.

Unfortunately, the Ghouls proved to be a force with or without Hollow. To deepen the wound, those same reporters were some of the Ghouls' latest victims.

"Yall want some seafood boil?"

The girls rushed to the kitchen. They sat at the table excited for Eve's signature dish. Scents of cajun and spicy garlic filled the air, the girls talked among themselves about the latest trends, celebrity gossip, and all the other things teen girls talked about.

"You done anything interesting, Miss Eve?" Gisella, another Ghoul, asked.

"I joined a support group for women married to villains." Eve stirred the pot. "Found them on Facebook."

The girls were interested. Eve never really talked about her personal life beyond her relationship with Hollow so news like this was very welcome.

"Are they also villains?" Hortensia asked.

"Nope. Most of 'em are regular ole ladies. You'd be surprised at some of the names I done heard in the meetings." Eve added the finishing touches to her seafood boil. She let it sit for a few minutes to really let the flavor get in there.

In the meantime, she talked some more about the support group. The girls listened with curiosity as she described a few of the members.

"Then there's Brandice. She's one of them hippies."

"Does she live in a camper?"

"She does sometimes with her husband. And you wanna know who that is?"

"Probably some hippie guy gone bad." LeighAnne giggled. Her joke elicited laughter from the others including Eve herself.

"Or maybe a biker. Hippies used to love those guys." Gisella giggled.

"Close. It's Rainbow Raider." Eve pulled out a big spoon to make each girl a plate. Once done, she handed the Ghouls their dinner before making herself some.

"He fights one of them Justice Leaguers. The red one that goes fast."

Hortensia sucked her teeth as she stood up to get a soda out the fridge. "That ain't too specific, Miss Eve. A lot of 'em are red and go fast."

"Is he a thief?" Tia, the last Ghoul, asked in between eating.

Eve poured herself a cup of sweet tea. "I wouldn't know. All I know is that Brandice seems to be a nice lady. A schoolteacher."

The rest of dinner was spent talking about the Ghouls' personal lives and gossip.

Later that night before Eve went to bed, she decided to go on a walk not too far from her home. Though she'd long gotten used to Hollow's absences, she still missed him. Just because they were frequent didn't make them easier.

Guess I'll see you soon, sugah, Eve thought to herself as she returned.

[loveshotzz]

Hi Leighanne 🩷 can I please request on the balcony in early morning,  where neighbors might see,  but no one will likely look. with Colours Steve please? 👀

So fuckin excited to revisit the Foxy Lounge for Halloween!

Hi baby 💗 thank you for your request, I know how much you guys love colors!steve and how much I always avoid him 😂 so here is my gift to you for always being so sweet.

A/N: This blurb comes from my series Colors, you can read this as a stand alone if you want. Steve is in his 40’s and you’re in your 20’s and his daughters (her name is Jenny) best friend from college. For those that read the series, this takes place right after chapter three. enjoy 💗

WC: 1k

Warnings:18+ age gap (Steve is in his 40’s, R is in her 20’s) Best friends dad (affectionally known as colors!steve) semi public smut, dirty talk, cream pie all the time.

Older!bestfriendsdad!steve x fem!reader

You knew what you wanted saying yes to Jenny when she invited you on an impromptu trip to visit her Dad for a long weekend. Just like you knew what you wanted when you found yourself at his bedroom door at 4am despite calling it quits after New Year’s Eve, you just didn’t know he would give it to you.

The dark violet sky starts to burst with hues of oranges and pinks, the golden sun breaking through the last bit of night that has warm rays shine against already heated skin. The grip you have on the railing of his balcony is just as hard as Steve’s grip on your hips. Sleep shorts forgotten down by your ankles along with your oversized shirt. His gray sweatpants are pushed halfway down his hairy thighs, while the pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises you’ll have to lie to Jenny about later.

The blunt ends of his nails dig crescent moons with each desperate roll of his hips, the sound of your slick growing loud enough to have you scared of waking her up with her bedroom window not that far from his on the second floor. The silver chain he wears runs cool up the dip of your back when he leans forward, pushing himself even deeper, trailing open mouth kisses wherever he can reach, your eyes rolling back when he hits the spot that makes you flutter around him.

“God, this pussy.” He groans, teeth nipping at your spine, the auburn and salt scruff that covers his jaw rubbing rough against you. “Always so tight honey, fuck - perfect.”

His words come out around huffed breaths, muttering against your sweat slick skin while his thrusts get slower - deeper, relishing in the feel of your silk wrapped around him like a vice grip, like you were close. He’d already pulled two out of you, one in his bed when his fingers curled just the right way to make you see white and another one with his face buried between your thighs when you came outside for a smoke break.

You were supposed to go back to your room before Jenny woke up.

He pulls himself all the way out, smirking when you whine a little, your own hips pushing back to try and chase him. His cock twitches in his hand when he sees the mess he’s made of you, how your walls seem to seem to beg for him with his fat tip pressed against your entrance.

“Yeah?” He chuckles darkly, watching how you drip more for him.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, one rock of his hips burying himself all the way to the hilt of you again, the stretch burns making your jaw go slack. Big hands swallow yours around the railing, fingers intertwining as he folds himself over so the dark curls on his chest are pressed wet with sweat against your back. His thrusts become more controlled like this, shorter, more precise. The sweetness of your arousal still lingers hot on his breath that huffs against your neck, you feel surrounded by him like this.

“Couldn’t stay away could you? Those college boys don’t feel like this do they, baby? She missed me huh?”

Words get lost on your tongue when the tip of him reaches the place inside of you only he can find over and over again. All you can manage is a shake of your head, eyes screwing shut and knuckles flexing against his palms when you grip the metal bar harder. His hips stutter when he feels your cunt do the same.

“Steve - please.” You sound wrecked when you plead with him, while the tension building deep in your gut starts to come to a head, the beginnings of your third orgasm making itself known.

“Shit - I know, I know.” He hisses releasing one of your hands so the pads of his fingers can find your clit, the sun getting higher up in the sky is a reminder of the time, “gonna take care of her all weekend, fuckin’ dream about you and this pussy all the time. Missed it so much.”

His words and the circles eight’s his index and middle finger rub against your bundles of nerves rips a moan that borders the edge of too loud from your chest, making you both freeze for a second. The heavy length of him twitches deep inside of you and it has you grind your hips despite the consequences. His head drops, eyebrows marrying in the middle when you squeeze around him with purpose, a loose strand of hair falling against his forehead when he nods, meeting your movements with fingers that become determined.

“Need you to fall apart for me, we don’t have much time.” He whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “let me get another one, come on pretty girl.”

His hips circle, hitting angles he wasn’t before overwhelming you, becoming too much. He thrusts hard enough to have you on your tippy toes, getting you to do exactly what he wants. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down to try and stay quiet and you’re scared it’s going to draw blood, walls spasming around him so much that the intensity of your orgasm rings in your ears.

You squeeze his length like you’re trying to push him out, but it only makes him bury his cock deeper fighting against the velvet of your walls. It doesn’t take much to have him follow your lead, hot ropes spilling out of him warming your insides when he comes. The grip he still has on your hand turns his knuckles white as he dips his head into the crook of your neck, letting his moans come out muffled against your soft skin.

The stubble on his jaw threatens to rub you raw while his jaw tightens trying to calm himself down, while you flutter relentlessly around him in your aftershocks. He holds you to him, both of your chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. The birds chirping outside are loud enough to tell you it’s fully morning now, and you hear the sounds of Jenny’s bedroom door open and shut. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest until you hear her shuffle to the bathroom leaving you just enough time to sneak out.

“Come to my room earlier tonight, honey.” Steve finally whispers, smirking against your neck.

[lannpaige-blog]

There are times I really want to post about books and music and other stuff I’m interested in, but I have a lot of followers now and I’m worried that people will get annoyed with the non-Sanders Sides things.

I was called annoying by peers a lot. I mean, a lot. I actually lost friends when I was a kid and the main reason people sited for not wanting to be friends with me was because I was annoying. It’s part of having ADHD when you’re a kid and I get that, but I’m so sensitive to rejection that the fear of being annoying drives almost every social interaction I do in person and most of them online. My last break up really didn’t help with that either.

[usedtobecooler]

We ride on—I mean… for Kurt. We, uh… we ride for Kurt in this house! ^_^

Also having thots of corrupting him until he’s sweating and bucking his hips up and fucking begging. Then taking his little camera and filming his fucked out reactions. “What do you think, everyone? He close to blowing his load this early already?” You give a nip at his ear, licking along the shell and finalizing with a bite on the lobe — sucking on the flesh with precision.

“aw, all these noises just from my hand? i don’t think you could handle my pussy, babe,” you smirk, salacious as you angle the camera just enough to catch his flushed cheeks and wide eyes as he watches the head of his cock slide in and out of your tight fist. he’s massive, of course he is, sadly just ridiculously inexperienced.

he’s whimpering begging, hips betraying him and it’s almost bratty the way he pleads, “please, please, i-i can’t hold it any longer,” he stutters. and you’re menacing, flicking your wrist around the top few inches until he’s gripping harshly at your thigh, “oh fuck, m’cumming,” and making a mess of your fingers, hot ropes spurting up his shirt, you laugh through the whole thing and it only makes his spent cock kick up in interest )):

[myobmaya]

a look into what happens when you make it off the tumblr messages @strangermarvelss

[kylejsugarman]

Hey syd, I love you! 💕 it’s gonna be a good week! If you ever need to talk let me know.

i love u so so much leighanne 💕 its a new week and im very happy to start it with a message from u

[sunshineperriee]

leigh-anne pinnock is ETHEREAL !!!! she is literally a goddess walking among us.

[lannpaige-blog]

!!! THIS IS SO SWEET THANK YOU.

I'm sorry I haven't been on much lately. But things will mellow out at work in two weeks and then I should be able to get on Tumblr more.

I STAN ALL OF YOU

@katie-the-noble-fangirl You get the kindness award, for being a good friend and and I stan that.

@bumble-bitch-sanders You get the acceptance award for talking to me about different topics, even when I couldn’t for coherent thoughts, I stan that.

@marshmallowmischief You get the best dad ever award, for being a very amazing tumblr dad, and you’ll be a great one in the future, I stan that.

@spacedouterri you get the interaction award, for interacting with me and hanging out with me on here, I stan that.

@thelonelycreature You get the new friend award, I haven’t known you long, but you seem great, and I stan that.

@myinsanity-ismycreativity You get the Overcoming award, for talking to me, and no matter how much you feel you don’t deserve it, you deserve all love, I stan that.

[hudders-and-hiddles]

[onthemoonarts]

FEMINIST BUZZKILLS LIVE! WITH SPECIAL GUEST LEIGHANN LORD

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