#or a bigger tougher bully

[chaoticallyfluffy]

Just banged my head against a drawer when I bent over, which means it’s time for more improv Billy thoughts! Is it going to become a tradition for me to make these every time my head hurts instead of resting? Probably! Am I gonna Pavlov myself into associating headaches with improv? I hope not!

When he became champion, Billy was amazed by all the mythical creatures that he gets to interact with while doing his duties. Much to his disappointment, he learned that unicorns aren’t very friendly and take years of bribery in the form of sugar cubes to befriend. This didn’t stop him though and after only a year he managed to befriend one and the rest of its pack started to trust him too.

He absolutely adored his new unicorn friends! The novelty mostly wore off by then but the day he got to ride a unicorn for the first time was a truly magical day.

The only problem is, once you befriend a unicorn pack there’s no getting out of it. He’s one of them now, and unicorns are fiercely protective of their own.

Now when ever he’s in the extreme danger, a pack of unicorns appears in a poof of sparkles and beats the hell out of whoever hurt him. Billy feels terrible about it because they do NOT hold back, and a few too many bully’s have ended up in the hospital because of this.

[craziertogether]

will’s character is equally as nerfed as mikes.

tbh i hate to say it but it’s equally as valid to say that will’s character arc is equally as nerfed as mike’s IF byler isn’t endgame. will has been nothing but the stereotype of tragic gay kid. he’s experienced nothing but misery from the second he was introduced.

abusive, sexist, homophobic, AND absent father (who may have SA’d him, if you subscribe to that belief).

bros also literally canonically poor asf like brother… get your bag up fr.

LITERALLY GOES MISSING for a week and has his death FAKED by the government.

will’s trauma isn’t actually unpacked on screen, we’re left to wonder what happened to him and how he was able to survive in the upside down for that week when bigger and tougher people have died.

been possessed by the mindflayer for all of S2, brother cannot catch a break

forced to have a connection with the UD, vecna, and all that even after his trauma from literally being stuck there for a week

love joyce but her overbearing nature in the seasons isn’t that great for him either because as will said “everyone treats him like he’s different” (except someone hmm i wonder why)

set up to be this sad bullied kid, described as “all alone” by mike FROM THE BEGINNING. bullied by troy in life and even after his “death”. isn’t even accepted when he does come back to school in s2

is low-key replaced by eleven by the group while he’s gone. (i love willel don’t start)

mike replaces him for el, lucas and max aren’t as close with him in season 3, dustin has suzie and the russians plot line

wants to play DND all summer and is ignored just to have his best friends leave and join a new party like not even a little bit later bro.. the SECOND they joined hs 😭💀

has basically been sidelined for 2 full seasons as the guy who gets a tingly neck feeling every 3 weeks. he’s not even considered smart or brave anymore, js the guy with the little itty bitty twitches on his neck and loves to touch it

is STILL not well liked by his peers in california plot line because of his sister

lowk is forced to become siblings with the girl that his first love is dating (again love willel stop)

tragically plays match maker for the doomed couple (literally the ONLY person who cares about their relationship)

is written to be a sad gay boy in love with his childhood best friend since idk SEASON 1. don’t get me started in why this is actually js torturous to have done if it will end with m*leven endgame.

hes basically a prop for this ship that is TECHNICALLY STILL canonically true but leaves will with all his trauma and gay pining to currently be put at risk of being sidelined forever for the development of m*leven (painting lie)

wasted how much time on that masterpiece of a painting to then sit in a HOT ASS VAN and pour his entire soul into mike just to try and salvage a dead relationship

forced him to lie to his BEST friend, who, even if they byler not endgame is the most important person in will’s life next to his mother.

forced to LITERALLY COMFORT THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE as he’s still being a gay mess and struggling to say that he loves his own fake girlfriend

sat through mike’s piece of shit monologue and heard him tell his gf that he loved her like 10 times

not only was the monologue garbage but it probably felt genuine to will who’s been on the receiving end of mike’s motivational talks. although he should’ve clocked it as in-genuine, he probably feels like he doesn’t remember mike anymore bc they haven’t talked in months in this essay i will-

basically if byler isn’t canon, will is set up to be amongst the worst characters in the show. maybe his connection to the UD is deep as hell but even if they explain will’s secret powers or connection to the upside down, his personal development outside of the supernatural is absolutely DOG SHIT. he could be more powerful than el in the telepathy world and it would still feel like emotionally he’s been nothing but a sad doormat for the writers that only gets remembered every time there’s a small disturbance in the UD. like no development except pure torture and sidelining him for two whole seasons to be nothing more than sad gay boy that the entire GA hates bc it threatens m*leven endgame.

[churino]

Design for earthmode barricade

Barry is... most eloquently put, a meanie head, growing up idolizing authority and law, resulting in quite the spineless bot. You see, he's a stickler for rules, but only when the rules don't affect HIM

Barricade was the first autobot on the ship to wake up on earth, intercepted by the decepticons. He betrays the team and starts feeding info to the decepticons stuck on earth with them. Eventually, the truth comes out, and he is forced to join the cons full time.

Early on, he had hopes of rising among decepticon ranks but found himself content in his position as what is essentially a paid bully, made big and powerful, but only big enough so his superiors can still squat him like a fly if he ever disobeyed them, not that he ever would as he's incredibly content with his job of... fighting chidren... alongside his new girlfriend swift

Swift arrived with other decepticon reinforcements and a change of leadership that also allowed barricade to get some upgrades, made bigger and tougher. He was a true decepticon now

To be a con, you need to be bigger than everybody else around you, either trough brain or bulk, thats the only way a con goes about life, decepticonism is founded on endless growth giving rise to captalists like swindle and Trickdiamond and of course, policemen like barricade.

[hamilando]

ੈ✩‧₊ One Step ੈ✩‧₊

Pairing : Seunghan x Gn! Reader

Genre : Idol au, Angst

Song : Happier than ever ( rock version) by Billie Eilish

TW: Depression, cyber bullying, idol life , suide

A/N : This is a very sensitive fic, I wrote this because all that's happening with Seunghan is absolutely not fair, not only him but other idols also suffer. We need to realise they are also human and it's their first time living too.

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

The car horns were blaring, the wind forcing the boy to keep his eyes open. Standing on top of the roof edge, his eyes blurred, with tears or with regret, he could not tell. He may have made mistakes in the past, but he wondered how much he could take before he could give up.

His ideal dream of debuting in an idol group, discovering the wonders of the world while touring and singing his lungs out had been reduced to an hope which was being extinguished by some jealous friends of his on the Internet. Seunghan debuted as a member of RIIZE, a group under the biggest entertainment in South Korea, fame finding them before they could even step out of the basement.

It scared him, how he was not afraid to die, rather afraid of being wrong in front of some users on the internet.

The life he sacrificed everything for, snatched away because he had a few moments of joy, but now he was fighting for the courage to live than kill himself. He felt broken, like that last piece in a puzzle that was not fitting. He was only human, 'it was your fault' ringing inside his head. He brought disgrace to his group, he brought disgrace to his family, all would be gone if he took a step. One step to his freedom, one step to his new life, one step to happiness.

"Does it ever stop hurting?"

Seunghan turned around and saw a person's shadow, but the tears flowing made it difficult to make out who it was.

"Of course it does, once the blood seeps out." His voice quavered.

"Go ahead and leave then, everyone does."

"They hated me in life, maybe they could love in death."

"It's worth giving a try to relive."

"Reliving where I don't have to starve myself to sing, carve my name in trophies to redeem myself."

"You failed in living, what makes you think you will succeed in dying."

"I kept running behind success, let this fall make it run after me."

Seunghan could feel a smile creep on his face, the feel of ending it all making the adrenaline rush in his body, the same adrenaline feeling he got before his first ever debut stage. Oh, but look at irony, a smile starting the movie, an even bigger smile to finish the movie. A movie well criticised by those who could never feel the making of it.

"If all you had to do was run, you should have joined a marathon team."

"At least there I would run towards my goal and not away from it."

The person took a few steps forward, hands in pocket due to the cold wind blowing, Seunghan just staring at the person in front of him.

"Is this you speaking or the adrenaline in you speaking because you are standing on the edge?"

Seunghan scoffed at the question, he was considering taking his life right here and this person was taking it as a joke,

"Of course it's me, I won't be standing here because of a dare."

"Well, then I dare you, come down the edge and say you want to jump off, look me in the eyes and say you want to jump off."

"I can say all that from right here."

"I know you can, but just come down once."

"Once you reach the top, it's difficult to come down"

"Then don't look down, look at me, I am here for you."

"I am glad, but it's a little late to be here for me."

Talking made it all the tougher for Seunghan to clear his mind. With a last glance at the person in front of him, he turned facing the city lights and said with confidence,

"Why would I come down when right now I feel the happiest man on top of the world?"

With that he took the step, deaf to the screams of the person behind him, deaf to the car horns blaring, deaf to the screams of his fans on debut, deaf to affections of his parents, deaf to the laughter of his members,

deaf to the little voice in his brain saying "one more chance was all that was needed."

[captainpikeachu]

We don’t talk enough about how Steve and John actually share one brain cell and that brain cell is all about throwing hands with people bigger/tougher than they are

You got Steve back in the 40s being a scrawny little guy with no weapons and still ready to have a go at it all day because he wasn’t gonna back down from a bigger bully

Then you got John in the present day with no gun and no shield and no powers and no backup, literally all alone on top of a moving truck with super powered enemies but still not backing down

Both of them just totally willing to get their asses kicked

They’re literally just full of this energy ⬇️

[alexihollis]

imagine: Ajax and Rembrandt who grow up together. Rembrandt is a bit younger and always the smallest, the runt, youngest kid in the family. Older siblings bully her and no one really understands her except for her rough-and-tumble best friend.

Young!Ajax meets Young!Rembrandt and immediately decides that she needs to protect Rembrandt. But Young!Ajax isnt Ajax yet. Shes small and scrappy and she can hold her own in some fights, but she cant square up to Rembrandt's brothers or mean gran or pretty much any of the people that actually make Rembrandt sad or hurt her. The absolute torment of Ajax being a protector at heart and not able to actually do anything about it until the day she convinces Rembrandt to run away when they're teenagers.

And Rembrandt just remembers Ajax always being there for her, always having her back, but Ajax can only remember all the things she couldnt do for Rembrandt. Might make her a bit more volatile when she gets bigger, tougher, less likely to be able to keep a lid on her emotions when people threaten those she cares about, but especially Rembrandt. Because Ajax truly will never forgive her younger self for the crime of being small, even though she would never even think to hold that against Rembrandt.

And yeah that was pretty much what created What Was I Made For? but everyone else needed to suffer the true extent of the angst my brain created.

[loftylockjaw]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Downtown PARTIES: Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) & Maggie (@woveninstardust) SUMMARY: Wyatt spots Maggie in town, then hurries to her defense when he realizes she's being bullied. She's upset, but grateful. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

—

While some people looked fondly upon high school days, Maggie grimaced. Elementary school was easy- friends were easy to make at that age, and when you could play make-believe like it was your profession and draw better than most, it was easy to win other kids over. You could close your eyes on the swings and jump, and if you said you were flying, the other kids might just believe. But people grow up, and when they do, they often discard their imagination because they become self conscious of it. They shed it. Bury it. And will scoff at the things they once found joy and wonder in. 

Maggie had clung to that sense of wonder like it was a life raft. It was not a bad thing to believe in something wondrous. But it put a big neon target on her back while she roamed the halls of good old WR High. Which was, decidedly, not good. It was easier now to avoid those who had been the cruelest. There were no classes to hold her captive, and lunch tables were a thing of the growing-distant past. But every so often, she heard a too-familiar voice, and she would get pulled back into that scared young girl lost in her sketchbook. 

She had been sitting outside downtown, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine and fixing some rough sketches- adding detail where there had been nothing, smoothing out lines and curves; maybe, just maybe, she might add a little color work, some shading… - when she heard someone snickering. Multiple someones. Just one quick look was enough to make her want to shrink back, close her sketchbook, and go. A cluster of old classmates. Whispering. Pointing. Laughing. 

The girl looked back down, trying to disappear back into her drawing like she’d never even noticed. But Maggie heard footsteps, saw shadows in her periphery, and knew this would not be fun for her.

Actually having managed to snag several uninterrupted hours of sleep, Wyatt was feeling less batshit than usual, which was good. It was a nice break, even if those tendrils of fear still lapped at his heels, threatening to catch up again once the sky grew dark. Until then, the lamia was celebrating with some well-earned sunshine and human interaction, even if it was just with strangers. 

A familiar head of hair caught his attention as he walked down the street and he did a double take, recognizing the girl from the creek immediately. He grinned before remembering that he was not very ‘Mister Gator’-y right now, and his enthusiasm faded. It’d be weird for him to just approach her out of nowhere, especially when he wasn’t about to let her know that he was her alligator friend. Oh well. About to turn and leave, he paused when he saw a group of kids her age lingering nearby, looking… problematic. His instinct was correct as he watched them walk up to Maggie and say some things he couldn’t hear, then rip the sketchbook from her hands and start ripping out pages and throwing them in the air. 

Oh hell no. 

Wyatt surged forward, running across the street and grabbing the boy that had her sketchbook in his hands by the back of his neck. He shouted some choice expletives as Wyatt snatched the sketchbook from his hands, handing it back to Maggie without looking at her. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snarled, shoving him roughly into his other friends, who looked equal parts pissed and freaked out. 

“My problem?! What the fuck is yours!?” the kid shouted back, and Wyatt rolled his eyes.

“Ain’t you kids a little old to be bullies? How old are you?” One of the girls in the group puffed up like an annoyed chicken, thrusting her fists against her sides in an attempt to look… bigger? Tougher? 

“We’re adults, you clown,” she snapped, and Wyatt grinned. 

“Oh, that so? Coulda fooled me. Get the fuck outta here n’ leave this girl alone, all of ya.” 

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?” Wyatt shook his head, lifting a brow at their presumed ringleader. 

“Don’t think you wanna find out, beanstalk. You’re adults, yeah? Means I can punch you just like I can punch any other bitch harassin’ someone, n’ the bluesuits ain’t gonna have much to say about it.” That probably wasn’t true, but they didn’t seem to pick up on his bluff. The chicken girl dropped her hands back to her sides, her eyes wide. 

“... come on, Matthias. Let’s just go.” 

Allison Beckett and Matthias Ford (or, as they had been in their high school days, Ally and Matty) had been the ring leaders of Maggie’s high school tormenting. They had been an average level on the popularity scale- just enough that they could float above the quiet kids. And make their lives miserable, if they so chose to. Which, with Maggie, they did. Somehow despite their being removed from the hallowed halls of Wicked’s Rest High School for so many years now, Ally and Matty and their little flock of cronies had not grown up. Not even a little. Sure, they might have jobs that paid better than hers, they might be living as adults- maybe their IDs finally matched their actual age. But in terms of maturity, they were still the bullies they had always been.

“Magnooooooliaaaaaa….” Allison’s voice rang out, syrupy sweet as she sauntered over in her perfectly matching athleisure. “What’s in your little book Magnolia? Still drawing your imaginary friends?” The group of them leered over the girl, casting shadows over the quickly shut notebook. Maggie wondered if she could treat the girl like a bear and simply not make eye contact. Maybe pretending like she didn’t exist would send her, Matty, and their gaggle of little minions away. So she stared at her feet, not uttering a word. 

Unfortunately, it did not. 

Matty whispered something- she couldn’t tell what- and suddenly the notebook was wrenched from the young woman’s hands before she could think to hide it. The tall boy held the notebook high above her head, turning through pages and pages of animals and creatures, real and fake. He snorted and showed it to one of the minions- Vanessa- before crowing. “We’ve got a walking crocodile! She doesn’t know that crocodiles don’t walk on two legs-” 

The pages were crumpling. Some were tearing as he flung the book around from side to side, showing his friends and mocking her. All the while, Maggie’s eyes burned. Her pulse roared in her ears, muffling their jeers. The words she wished she were brave enough to say sat like a stone in her throat. 

Suddenly, the shade Matty cast over her was gone, replaced by sunlight once more. Her notebook- a bit worse for wear- was held out just in front of her. Immediately, she took the book into her hands and took a few steps away. Maggie flipped through the pages to survey the damage. She could not conceal the little whimper that escaped her lips when she got to the page of the alligator she’d been working on. Ripped. Crumpled up and torn right down the middle. 

When she looked back up, Ally was yanking Matty away, and the rest of their group was quick to follow. Standing alone in the place they had been was a stranger. Maggie quickly wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, forcing a smile back onto her face. It didn’t matter that she wanted to go home and crawl under the covers and cry. She could pretend for a few more seconds that everything was fine and at least thank the stranger for their intervention. “Uh... thanks… for that. You didn’t have to…”

Watching them go for a moment (making sure they didn’t gain courage to do something stupid the more distance the group put between themselves and Wyatt), he eventually turned back around to see Maggie smiling at him, teary-eyed. “Ah! I'm so sorry—” He quickly ducked down to gather the pages that had fallen to the ground, handling them carefully as he picked them up, straightening them in his hands as he moved back toward her. His gaze dropped to the sketchbook she was clutching, and he recognized more art of himself on the page, art she must have drawn after leaving the creek that day.

“Hey, that's really good,” he remarked, passing her the loose pages. “I mean, all of it is—seriously! D'you do art professionally? You should.” He was wearing a warm smile as he said it, shrugging with one shoulder. “Easier said than done, I know.” He pointed at the drawing of himself, a knowing smirk passing over that wide grin. “You see that guy ‘round here?”

Loose pages with footprints, scuffs, tears… how much work had they wrecked? Just in a few minutes of their stupid taunting? The girl wanted to scream. She hated that she could never force herself to be brave enough to tell a bunch of peaked-in-high-school bullies that she didn’t care what they thought. She hated that instead of grabbing her sketchbook and whacking one of them upside the head with it, Maggie’s eyes burned with tears and her body froze in place. Most of all, Maggie hated that even now, looking up at some stranger who had helped, she couldn’t convince herself to believe his kind words and compliments. 

Dark brown eyes dropped their gaze, unable to keep the forced smile up in the man’s direction. Maybe if she pretended to look over her art, Maggie thought, he wouldn’t notice. “It’s just doodles and sketches…” Dammit, even her voice sounded defeated. When he pointed at the drawing of Mister Gator- the one that was half-watercolored, the one that was now ruined- she had to swallow hard to keep from losing her shit and simply bawling on the sidewalk. Maggie wished she were with Mister Gator now. She could cry in front of him, and he wouldn’t judge her. She could be herself in front of that alligator, and those bright intelligent eyes would smile at her and then everything wouldn’t seem so shitty. 

She tucked the sketch up against her chest, hugging it tight. As if that might fix it. “I did- you don’t… you don’t have to be nice just because they were mean. I appreciate you stepping in… they would’ve wrecked more of my stuff- but…” The girl’s voice trailed off, words abandoning her. 

“Hey, c’mon now. All my friends will tell you, I ain’t a nice guy unless I mean it,” Wyatt drawled with a chuckle. “I’m bein’ honest! You wouldn’t call a stranger a liar, wouldja?” This poor thing was in desperate need of cheering up, and as endeared as he was to her, he knew one thing at least that ought to do the trick, if their previous interactions were anything to go by (unbeknownst to her). 

Sitting down on the bench where Maggie had been before those idiots had come along, Wyatt patted the empty space beside him. “You got a minute to tell me more about that fella you been paintin’? I wanna hear about it.” He gestured vaguely at the town around them, giving a shake of his head. “I mean, it’d hardly be the weirdest thing to be spotted ‘round here, right? Give me the benefit of the doubt, kid. I’m curious.” Yes, he was asking about himself, and yes, someone would probably call that vain, but he knew this girl had bonded with the creature she’d been drawing. And the way her face had lit up by that creek in the woods when he sat down beside her, he knew she had to want to tell someone, if she hadn’t already. His only goal was to help her feel better, he’d insist. 

But maybe also he did want to hear someone say nice things about the beast he felt was the real him. Maybe. There’d be no admitting it.

He was right. Maggie would not call a stranger a liar. It wouldn’t be fair- especially when he had already gone through the trouble of being menacing enough to get rid of her tormentors. Big brown eyes finally looked up a little, just enough to see the man’s face. He said he wasn’t a nice guy unless he meant it. But she knew that wasn’t true just from one look. She didn’t know why, but something in his eyes was comforting. 

Her fingers brushed across the torn page of her notebook, across the mostly finished illustration of Mister Gator. It was starting to feel like the alligator she’d found down by the creek had become one of her best friends in town… “I… I need to come up with a better name for him,” The girl sniffled as she flipped through to find a less damaged drawing of the creature. “But he’s real. I call him Mister Gator, because I think he’s a gentleman.” Maggie landed on a page with a detailed sketch of the alligator-cryptid’s face. She’d watched Mister Gator for as long as she could in order to drink up every little line and curve that made up the creature’s countenance. “He’s gorgeous… and can do things I’ve never seen an alligator do. And he’s smart. So smart. It’s like he knows what I’m talking about when I go to visit him…”

The artist’s fingers trailed along the picture, seeming lost in contemplation for a moment before very carefully ripping the page out of her sketchpad and handing it to the man. “Here... For helping me out.”

“I dunno, I think Mister Gator is pretty spot on,” Wyatt chuckled. It was nice that Maggie thought he was a gentleman of all things, but then she’d not really seen what that body was capable of, had she? He’d only ever been gentle with her, happy to receive the praise and attention offered without judgment or any other understanding of who he was and what he was like outside of that moment clouding it. It was a pure thing, and Wyatt didn’t want to do a damn thing that might damage that purity. So he and his alter ego, Mister Gator, would remain separate. For both their sakes. 

“Maybe he does, cher, maybe he does.” Of course he did, but he couldn’t talk back. That would ruin the purity. Wyatt’s gaze dropped to the drawing he was offered, and he felt his heart swell a little bit as he looked at it. It was easy to see the care in each stroke, and coupled with the girl’s words, it made him feel appreciated in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever been appreciated. “Thank you,” he answered softly, unable to pull his gaze away from the drawing just yet. “This is incredible. It’s for sure goin’ up on my wall.” Finally, the shifter dragged his attention up from the page to meet her gaze again, his heart breaking for her. “You tell this friend of yours I said hi, yeah? And, hey… if those couyons give you any more trouble, maybe you enlist this guy’s help, ah?” He gave the sketch a small shake. “Bet they’d be a lot more scared of somethin’ like him than a fool like me!” 

Mister Gator would have liked this stranger, the girl decided. If he could appreciate a simple drawing of such a wonderful creature, then surely the man would think the living, breathing, better-than-an-alligator was the most incredible thing in the world… And yet, Maggie felt strangely protective of her reptilian friend. Humans had a terrible habit of fearing and destroying things that did not (in their minds) belong. And a bipedal alligator in coastal Maine was unusual indeed. A drawing would be more than enough. And maybe, hopefully, this stranger was just being nice. And he wouldn’t go hunting for her alligator friend. One look at his face told her all she needed to know. The story of Mister Gator was safe with this man.

“I’ll tell him,” Maggie didn’t offer the words ‘I promise’, but the sentiment was there, hidden in three little sincere words. “I’ll tell him you’re a friend… just in case you run into him, too.” That way, perhaps her gator would be safe and so would the man who shooed away the couyons as he’d called them. “Thanks, Mister…” She didn’t know his name, she realized. Yet, given the situation, it felt strangely appropriate. 

There was a pause while Wyatt considered offering his name — too many people in this town would make a pretty fast connection between Wyatt and a giant alligator, but he also didn’t feel right just letting her sentence hang in the air. Less would know him by his surname, he figured. 

“Barlow,” the lamia responded with a soft smile. He held out a hand to her to shake, then got to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it, miss. Thanks again for the drawin’. You take care, now. And hey, you know the best way to get back at a bully? Remind ‘em of what they’re real insecure about.” He ought to fucking know, after all. “You’re young, bet you can sleuth social media for that kinda thing pretty easy.” The man dipped his head and gave Maggie a lazy two-fingered salute before turning away and moseying down the sidewalk. He made a mental note to remember the names he’d heard and see if he could figure out who exactly those idiots were, and where they lived. If a spicy comeback from Maggie didn’t deter them, he’d take care of them himself. No one was gonna mess with his biggest fan on his watch.

[thewolvesof1998]

Created by @mostlyinthemorning

Day Eleven pt. 10 (Because I couldn't choose)

mi media naranja by oklahoma @malewifediaz

the side effects of eating too many clementines by oklahoma

It’s a testament to the deep fondness Eddie has for Buck that he doesn’t even bat an eye when Buck shows up at his house at one in the afternoon with a box full of oranges in his hands. He’s grinning like a fool, ugly and goofy and crooked, haloed by the sun behind his big head, and something deep in Eddie’s tummy shifts. He’s used to it. That always happens when Buck’s smiling like he is right now, all child-like and full of joy and wildness, so unrelentingly kind and free that no amount of ruin or rot can take it away from him. He’s bigger and stronger and tougher and brighter than even the Library of Alexandria, and that was one of the greatest wonders of the world. Buck’s a wonder of the world, then. The most wonderful, maybe. - Eddie realizes he’s in love with Buck while they’re in the kitchen, of all places.

the art of peeling mandarins for the one you love by oklahoma 

“I’m asking you to be my husband.” Eddie sighs, straddling Buck’s thighs and sitting down on Buck’s big, cushiony lap. It’s his second favorite seat, after the recliner Athena bullied him into buying when his ribs broke in the overpass collapse. “Buck—” “And it makes sense, you know?” Buck cuts in, gripping Eddie’s thighs and pulling him in. Eddie can feel all of him, through the thin layers separating them. “I mean, I sat here and I watched you peel an orange for me ‘cause I can’t do it the way you do and in the time it took you to separate the sections I fell in love with you all over again.” - Buck asks Eddie to marry him in the kitchen, of all places.

There's not much to say other than Amanda's writing makes me actually feral (if you want proof look at the comments I leave on her fics- actually insane for the writing) and I want to devour her brain so I can write like her. I recommend every single one of her fics but these two are just to die for.

Rules: Every day for 12 days in December, choose a fandom work from any fandom from 2023 that you loved. It can be anything you like - a gifset, a drabble, fanart, a fic, or just a post that made you laugh.

Reblog the post and add a comment or tags about why you love it.

Tag your post with #12 days of fandom

tagging: @hippolotamus @exhuastedpigeon @steadfastsaturnsrings @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @buddierights @jamespearce9-1-1 and anyone else who wants to participate (it's never too late!)

[drftings]

REV.       thirty   to   forty   minutes   after   two   swings,   not   a   bruise   in   sight   but   a   lingering   anger, @jinxshq.

on   a   night   like   this,   it   was   difficult   for   others   to   believe   the   mechanic   wasn't   a   fighter.   those   times   where'd   she   clicked   her   tongue   at   the   alias,   insisted   a   fight   wasn't   a   regular   occurrence   for   her,   and   flat   out   ignored   when   someone   called   out   for   rocky,   didn't   hold   up.   not   when   in   the   small   body   there   was   so   much   hurt   and   anger,   guilt   and   confusion,   a   hit   here   and   there   almost   felt   like   a   release.   or   maybe   it   was   repentance.   she   wasn't   sure.   and   it   never   mattered   if   the   opponent   was   bigger,   if   they   were   tougher,   if   they   were   smarter.   it   was   never   about   being   the   best   fighter,   but   about   never   stepping   down   from   one.   still,   she   wasn't   a   bully.   walked   away   from   the   scuffle   outside   untouched   because   marigold   couldn't   throw   a   punch   to   save   her   life,   it'd   only   been   right   to   stop.   but   her   adrenaline   still   pumped,   a   high   that   hadn't   yet   began   to   settle.   walking   through   bodies   in   the   bar,   leaving   the   bathroom,   a   sentence   rung   out   that   caused   her   movements   to   stop.   seemed   her   damn   meerkat   ears   were   picking   up   every   little   comment   tonight.   a   glance   at   the   commenter   and   it   almost   irked   her   more   that   she   didn't   know   who   the   person   was,   no   recollection   of   the   body.   some   random   stranger   that   maybe   had   every   right   to   comment   on   a   public   spectacle   but   that   wasn't   enough   to   stop   the   mechanic   in   her   tracks,   a   twist   of   her   body   and   it's   almost   deja   vu   the   way   she's   in   someones   face   again.     “    what   was   that   you   said?   fight   outside   was   tacky?    ”       she   didn't   care   to   hear   comments   from   the   peanut   gallery,     “    what   about   fights   indoor?   those   tacky?    ”       not   another   moment   wasted   to   find   out   what   the   answer   would   be,   right   arm   draws   back   enough   to   land   the   first   punch. 

[bewitchingbaker]

📁

Many often think that Chris is pretty brave. Often jumping head first to help out any paranormal or human person, no matter the danger. Some chalk it up to him being a member of a coven of witches who have stole from even the dangerous of demons. Others say it's because he might have inherited his mother's bravery.

While somewhat true. The reason he's so brave (almost to somewhat stupid levels) is waaaaay more simple.

Jess.

SHe's the bravest person he knows. Who else openly stands up to people much bigger and tougher? Jess. Who fought his bullies when he was a kid? Jess.

While he's running from demons, shifting through portals, and facing down eldritch beings, he always thinks...'What would Jess do?'.

Jess isn't the most aware of this as she's not as brave as him in paranormal situations.

[ @burnlikeme ]

[quixoticrobotic]

i have like actual thoughts about how the vengeance saga being a big metaphor for The Mental Crap and leaving mutually destructive relationships and overcoming the hopelessness and stagnation that comes with depression

and how sometimes people who are bigger and tougher than you are gonna say you'll only be good enough if you do things their way and you can try for YEARS to do things their way before realizing they're a bully who you dont have to listen to

and how this arc has very bleak imagery contrasted with triumphant themes

but also no thoughts head empty 600 STRIKE!!!!!!!!!!

[octuscle]

Hey support? I was wondering if you could help me out. I ran into my high school bully over the weekend and he’s still a big cocky jerk. Is there any way you could help me be even bigger and tougher than him to put him in his place for once?

Dude, your high school bully is now a mechanic? That's almost a cliché fate for a Himbo. But I have to say, he has good taste in cars. Karmann Ghia. Something for connoisseurs. Only gets better with age..: Powerful curves. Extremely sporty looks. Hardcore, well-defined muscles… Where were we? I've lost my train of thought…

Dude, yeah, this fellow looks pretty damn good. Maybe you're not a pretty boy like him. But that's also a matter of taste. You're more the oriental type. Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes… I like it. And let's be honest: Your stable full beard distinguishes you much more as an alpha than his clean-shaven chin!

Besides, a man has to smell like a man. Your bully smells like Coolwater. How gay is that? You take a deep breath from your hairy damp armpit. Yes, that is the smell of a man. You can't wait to press his pretty face into that bush. Maybe then the smell will make him a man too. And maybe he'll grow some more. Fuck, bruh! You're almost a head taller than the lad. And you let him bully you in high school?

Since your bully is obviously specialized in VW, I'll turn your Tesla into a VW Amarok. It fits you to some extent. You go to the garage and ask if he can take a look at the engine. From 80 miles per hour, it makes strange noises. The bully nods. And opens your hood. You yell at him if he can't say "Yes, sir" first? And whether he can put on a T-shirt when he looks at your car. You don't want sweat stains on the finish. Your bullie's tight jeans leave no doubt, his bulge is growing. He bends over the grille with his T-shirt on and asks you to start the engine. You hear him hitting your baby with the button of his jeans. You yell at him whether he little piece of shit has no respect for other people's property. Your bullie's bulge looks painful. He stammers something about having respect, of course. "Louder" you bark at him. "Yes, I do have respect" he replies. " How do you say that?" He looks at you, uncomprehending.

You grab his head, snot in his face and say only "'Sir!' it's 'Sir'!" And you push his head towards your own bulge. Not long now, and your former bully will have your cum dripping from the corners of his mouth onto his T-shirt. And he will have cum his own load into his jeans. Bully used to be, slut is today.

Pics found @maxx-magnum and @stargazerguy

[tetsunabouquet]

Monster High OOAK OC: Shemmer Boogeyman

Because of Twyla's neon frights doll having infamous poor make-up quality including the ones I had, I altered her a little bit. I was really inspired by Cerise Hood and Ramona Bad Wolf for the Boogeyman twins.

I blurred the backgrounds so one cannot see the damage my cats have made to their cat tower. Character Profile: The older twin sister of Twyla. Whilst autistic like her sister, she is the more outgoing one of the two which is why she disappears from time to time- needing to recharge her social batteries in the shadows. Like her more monstrous appearance hints at; Shemmer is at first glance the stereotypical evil twin. She has an extensive knowledge on horror movies and often likes pranking people by scaring them in ways inspired by the movies she enjoys. With her wit and charm she usually only gets a slap on the wrist for her antics and some believe she is using her disability to her advantage. Only to her beloved twin, she dares to open up to how she’s vulnerable to states of depression due to her autism and how she is actually too much of a chicken to scare little children with the same props she uses on her friends. She simply pretends to be the tougher one and be the bigger bully scaring other bullies away from Twyla. She’s very protective over her little sister and has a weak spot for little kids. She prefers giving nightmares to people she thinks that deserve it like parents who hurt their children. Shemmer does not really have any true friends aside from Lagoona Blue and Draculaura and drifts from social circles to another depending on her mood. She does have a pretty close frenemy relationship with Toralei though and usually when Shemmer needs to recruit someone to make one of Twyla’s bullies experience the nightmare of their lifetime- its this kitty that’s at her side. Favorite Activities: Reading up on history with her sister. Scaring people. Writing poetry (which occasionally end up as lyrics for the Hissfits) Trivia: Shemmer’s name fits the same naming pattern as her sister. Like Twyla’s name obviously refers to twilight, Shemer’s name refers to the Dutch word for twilight, schemering. Shemmer typically wears more bold colors compared to Twyla to fit her bolder bright blue hair. This also refers to Dutch specific old tales of the boogeyman where he dressed in bright, bold colors. Shemmer often refers to herself as a lovable pest.  Creators notes: Being autistic myself, I liked the idea of having a darker autistic character who's special interests are more morbidly inclined like horror movies- as those always have been a fascination of mine. I always thought Monster High doesn't creates enough dolls with tails, and I get why it's annoying like when it comes to the clothes (which is why I made Shemmer's tail removable), but I still think its a bit of a misser so I gave Shemmer a tail with my 3d pen. And yes, aside from styling Shemmer's hair the exact same as Twyla, I also gave them identical moles to amp up the twin effect. For those who aren't neurodivergent: Identical neurodivergent twins absolutely happen. I actually attended special needs school with a pair of identical twins.

[ninjacat1515]

I think Karl was a bully back in the human world, given his personality. He enjoys having some power as a "hero" and can do whatever he wants with little to no consequences- unless he happens to be the target of something bigger and tougher than he is. And usually bullies fall apart when they're not the toughest thing around.

[rvllybllply2014]

Just general musings about growing up fat under the cut

Growing up fat makes you have a tougher skin a lot younger than what you should. I was a fat child and that’s okay, but according to society it wasn’t it was something to feel ashamed about. Doctors always said loose weight and the problem will go away. My dad would say fat phobic comments about fat people on tv. My own mother would say you’d be so much prettier if you only lost some weight. In elementary school i was bullied/made of fun in P.E., like we had to run a mile lap one time and another kid had to count your laps anyway this one somewhat popular kid made me run more laps then I needed to. Another time we had to do pull ups and this one kid was supposed to spot you like help you half way up and he fell pretending that I was too fat. Skipping to high school I was minding my own business in the hallway, waiting for my teacher to get to class and this random kid came up with his friend and said that his friend liked me and wanted to go to prom with me laughed and then left. I had never seen them before in my entire time at school, and since I’m shy the answer would’ve been no anyway.

I’m finally loosing some weight as an adult while trying to honor the poor traumatized fat girl that I was and my shit head boyfriend undermines it everytime he can. I’m not saying I’m skinny or anything I know I’m not, I’m trying to learn how to love this newer body. Today multiple times he’s called me fat and lazy. Idk how much I weigh but I’ve probably lost 40ish pounds since the last time I was able to weigh myself. This is not to make fun of anybody but he weights 354 pounds, while at my heaviest I weighed just slightly over 180 pounds. But now that I’ve lost some weight he says that I look like I’m 200 pounds, guys my clothes hang off me without me sucking in my stomach or anything. But the funny thing is I grew up fat where in my family it wasn’t okay. He grew up playing sports and staying thinner. And yeah growing up hearing your fat then hearing that you’re fat as a an adult doesn’t hurt your feelings but telling someone who got fat as an adult absolutely hurts them.

Also the fucked up thing is I never judge someone based on their weight, but I will push back against someone who is bigger than calling me a fat lazy fuck. Especially if you’re my romantic partner.

Closing this out by saying to my fellow fat kids who grew into fat adults I love you. To the younger fat me who was traumatized and made fun of for being fat by family and random people, you are so much more then the pain you’ll always carry.

[histopia-a]

ayano is a short king and that’s okay.