#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.

[octuscle]

Old

When you're skinny and weak, it's no fun being young. Richard wasn't even particularly clever or funny or charismatic. Richhard was just a lop! No longer being 18. No longer being mistaken for 16. No longer being bullied… Richard wanted nothing more! Regularly attending a gym seemed the logical consequence. Train hard. That must lead to muscles. And tougher facial features. And more respect from others…. But the first few visits to the gym were more than demoralizing. The other guys here were so much bigger than him. He looked ridiculous in his cheap clothes from school sports. Richard moved his work outs to the early mornings or late evenings when he was almost alone. At some point he was asked if he would like to earn a few extra dollars. Soon, when he trained in the evening, Richard would lock up the gym after his workout, clean up, mop the floor and get everything ready for the next morning. This had many advantages. He had money for better clothes and even got an employee discount at the gym store. And he could train completely alone and undisturbed after the official end of business.

That had an effect. Slowly. Far too slowly. After six months, perhaps no one was laughing at Richrad anymore. But no one showed him any respect from the members or colleagues who occasionally crossed his path despite his training and working hours.

Richard had already heard about this Chronivac. It was used to support particularly solvent customers with their transformations. The device had to be in the managing director's office. But it was always locked there. There was no chance of getting to the device. Until this one evening. The evening when Richard walked through the corridors with the mop. And the door to the office was open. Wide open. And this device was lying on the desk. Obviously on. The display bathed the office in a very faint blue light.

"Scanning the client" was written on the display… It looked like a normal smartphone app. Richard pressed "okay" and a monitor appeared. Richard held the device in front of his face. There was no button like on a camera. But after a few moments there was an acoustic signal and the message "Number of virtual training units" appeared on the display. Damn, what was that supposed to mean? Was the device simulating training sessions? Richard trained three times a week. 12 times a month. 144 times a year. It would be cool to be four years older. 22 years old. A college jock who had been training hard for four years. Richard did a quick mental calculation. That was about… He heard footsteps. Shit! 500 had to be about right. He typed in 600 and pressed enter. And carefully put the device back on the desk. Hopefully that had worked. He took the mop and ran to the showers. And while he was mopping the floor, Nick, the manager, came in. He greeted Richard and asked if everything was OK. It was already late and Richard should leave. All right, Richard replied. The message "Transformation started. Perform 500 monthly training cycles. Transformation within the next eight hours."

As he has done for almost 42 years, Rick was one of the first to enter the gym. He had been a member longer than any other guy pumping here. Longer than anyone who worked here. Rick was simply part of the inventory. He was the janitor, the manager, the go-to guy here. And a role model for every man who trained here. Yes, Rick had never become one of the musclemen who also trained here. But he had also always been clean. Never cheated. And a body that still worked like a well-oiled machine despite his almost 60 years of life was his thanks. Yes, his beard and hair were gray. But he still had the body of a 30-year-old athlete. And with that, he had honestly earned the respect of everyone here.

Inspiration by @workinprogress1986

[forays-into-fiction]

I Want You So Bad I Can’t Breathe

You met Eddie when you first moved to Hawkins, Indiana it was an especially difficult time for you and Eddie was the one to stand by you, becoming fast friends. But then he was moving on to middle school and leaving you behind only to forget about you. You admire him from afar until Hellfire Club where you finally reconnect.

 Request fill for @harringtonfan4​ hope you like it, sorry if I went too hard on the negative self-image/insecurity stuff 😅

Minors DNI

Contains: Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader, Slight Perv!Eddie Virgin!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, Insecure!Eddie, Insecure!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Angst, Major Internalised Fatphobia/Fatphobia, Bullying, Daddy Kink, Spitting, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Praise Kink, Innocence/Virginity Kink, Unprotected Sex, Drug Use (Weed)

Fat. It was a word you’d heard more than half your life by now at eighteen. The first time someone called you fat you were seven, she was supposed to be your friend… your best friend, but her snide little, ‘Why are you so fat? It’s so gross!’ stuck with you.

 Looking back now you know you weren’t fat… you know it every time you look back, but you can never see it in the moment. And you weren’t fat you were just an average sized little girl with chubby little cheeks.

No matter how far back it’s always been ‘oh I used to think I was so fat back then, what I would give to go back to that size. But now, now I really am fat’

 Over the years this mindset had really impacted your life, you used to be more outgoing, you used to love to sing and dance, you used to live without constantly thinking about how everyone else saw you. Because no one wants to see the fat girl having fun, enjoying life right… better to hide away.

You had tried to lose weight, so many times… and you did, but every time you’d lose weight as soon as you’d hit a plateau your weight would sit there for a bit before slowly creeping back up and up and up. At least until you weighed even more than when you’d started.

 It wasn’t just your friend that had made comments about your weight, she was the first but she certainly wasn’t the last. You’d also had a bully around the same time, she had consistently tormented you every day. 

Day after day she’d drag you away from your friends, pulling you into a secluded corner to harass you verbally, physically, mentally… until one day you finally told someone. 

Your mum went off on that other girl, threatened her so badly every time you saw her since then she’d cross the road to avoid you… but the damage had been done.

You didn’t have to deal with the aftermath for too long, shortly after your parents had decided to move to Hawkins, Indiana to be closer to your grandparents. 

Your little brother was almost four now and they were going to need help taking care of the two of you, both of them working long hours and odd shifts just to get by. Also needed a bigger house to accommodate the needs of your growing family.

You were eight when you first met him, he was ten both of you still in elementary school. You were new in town, that in itself already made you an oddity to say the least. 

Some kids had been picking on you, calling you names, pushing you around, you were on the verge of tears when he stepped in. He’d scared them off pretty easily, being both older and taller, buzzed head giving him a ‘tougher’ look.

 Once they had left, he turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder looking into your eyes like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, “Hey, don’t pay attention to shitheads like that, ok? I’m Eddie.”

“Y/n…” You reply shakily.

“Y/n,” He repeats, “that is a very pretty name. Nice to meet you y/n.”

“N-nice to meet you t-too.”

“Wanna have lunch with me?”

“Yeah…”

 You’d spent the rest of that school year by his side he’d introduced you to this game he played, Dungeons and Dragons. He’d jokingly criticised your taste in music, telling you he’d show you some real music. 

You pout and protest that just because he doesn’t like your music doesn’t mean it’s not real music, but begrudgingly you listen to his stuff and find you actually like it… not that you’d admit it to him, you’d never give him the satisfaction.

 If you were honest with yourself, you’d been smitten with him since that day, but you buried those thoughts and feelings deep down, tried to ignore it.

But then all too quickly he’s moving on to middle school, the two of you promise to stay in touch but you don’t. You don’t want to push it either, he’s probably moved on to something better… someone better.

 In his absence you became closer with one Nancy Wheeler. Your brother and hers were in the same playgroup and your families had become closer as a whole. Both you and her were the same age, you’d bonded over the little things and she was a good friend to you.

It’s not until another two years later that you see him again, you’re starting middle school and he’s in his final year there. His hair is a bit longer now, no longer completely buzzed, still cropped short but growing out. 

You admire him from afar, he wouldn’t remember you… why would he remember you? You couldn’t risk embarrassing yourself by approaching him now.

 Your brother and his friends have discovered Dungeons and Dragons, the game has changed a bit since you first played but you sit in with them for a few sessions, Nancy also joins on occasion. 

You DM until Will asks to take over one session, then they all take turns at being DM, each running their own campaign with your guidance. As Nancy starts to lose interest in the game, you feel you should stick with her rather than intrude on your brother’s group.

 And time slips by the year is over, he’s moving on to high school, leaving you behind once more.

By the time you see him again you’re both in high school, his hair is longer still, becoming a bushy mane around his head, he’s really embracing the ‘metal’ look from what you can see and it suits him you think.  

 You hear he’s started a D&D group here at the school, Hellfire Club it was called. You were tempted to join, you had really missed him all these years, you doubt he would have even spared you a second thought… who would? Why would he care about that fat, little weird kid who followed him around for a year?

 You ask Nancy what she thinks, “I kinda know the guy that runs it, we were friends for a little while. It was before you and I really started hanging out properly, but I don’t think he remembers me. What do you think, should I join? Would you join with me?”

 “I think if you want to join you should, and it seems like you do… but I don’t know about joining myself, I kind of outgrew that phase. I’m thinking of signing up for the school paper though.”

“Oh, yeah that’s great you definitely should!”

“So, what about you? You going to join that club?”

“Ummm… yeah, maybe… I do want to, but I’m a little nervous.”

“I thought you said the guy that runs it is a friend, just talk to him.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t talked in years, I’m sure he doesn’t remember me.”

“It’ll be fine if you are worried about talking to him directly, I’m sure they’d have some sort of sign-up sheet, just go put your name down.” She shrugs.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok that doesn’t sound too bad.”

And they do have a sign-up sheet, it’s hung just outside the drama room, but you can’t see a pen anywhere. You rummage around in your bag for your pencil case, but then he appears beside you and you jump. 

He holds a pen out towards you with one hand, the other on which he’d drawn a silly, little face comes up and he makes it ‘talk’ with a funny voice, “Need a pen?”

“Ahhh… yeah, thanks…?” You take the offered pen awkwardly.

His silly face hand drops, internally he’s facepalming, ‘why the fuck did you do that?’ he thinks pressing on despite this, “Eddie. My name is Eddie.”

You shift self-consciously avoiding looking him in the eye, “Yeah, I uhh… I remember you, Eddie. You probably don’t remember me-”

A broad grin spreads across his face, “Are you kidding, of course I remember you, princess. Sorry if I scared you earlier, by the way. So, you’re signing up for Hellfire, huh?”

You shrug, “Yeah, if you’ll have me, I guess.”

“It’ll be just like the good old days. You still been playing?”

“Umm… not so much lately, but you remember my little brother?”

He nods, you continue, “He and his friends are really into it now. When they first started I DM’ed for them, at least until they got the hang of it.”

“Awww, princess DM’ing… I woulda loved to see that.”

“I mean you still could… if I’m joining Hellfire…”

“Oh, no… no I am the Dungeon Master there, princess no one else. And I run a brutal campaign… you better prepare yourself. I’m not about to go easy on you, just cause it’s you.”

“We’ll see about that won’t we Munson, I can take brutal, you know.”

He just about chokes on his words at that, but manages to contain himself… barely, “Uhh huh sure you can, princess.”

The next couple of years after that the two of you reconnect, it was like you’d never been apart, but again he’s coming up on his final year, about to leave you behind yet again. And then… he doesn’t, he doesn’t graduate, he fails his senior year. 

You’re torn on the one hand it means you get another year with him, another year before he disappears again. On the other hand, you hated seeing him fail, you knew how shitty high school was for him, constantly being mocked and teased. You hadn’t had it any better either, but having him there helped and now you’d have him for another year.

 But now, now you’re eighteen, he’s twenty and he’s failed again. So, you get to share all your classes with him, you feel guilty about how happy you are to still have him with you. 

Your little brother and his friends are just starting high school and Eddie takes them under his wing, inviting them to join you at your table. You would have done so yourself, but he’d beaten you to it and it reminded you of the day you met him, the way he stood up for you, the way he still stood up for you.

 Your feelings have resurfaced… or maybe they’d always been there, just bubbling away in the hidden recesses of your mind. You hated yourself for it, it wasn’t for you to have a crush… nothing could possibly come of it, you’d seen the way he’d looked at other girls, prettier girls, skinnier girls… he’d never want you, why bother? And every day you dig yourself deeper into this hole, torturing yourself.

He’s driving you to school one day when you find yourself humming along to one of the songs on his radio and he is very quick to call you out on it. “Hey, I thought you didn’t like my, quote ‘shitty metal’?”

You give him a shove, “Fuck off, you know I don’t.”

“Oh, yeah then why are you fucking humming Metallica hmmm?” He grins smugly.

“I dunno, I guess it grows on you… like a wart… or a skin lesion… or you.”

“Hey, you take that back!”

You giggle, “Never.”

“Oh, really is that how it is?” He glances over at you briefly, taking one hand from the steering wheel he begins poking at you “Take. It. Back.”

You squirm away from his prodding fingers, but then instead of getting your arm or your shoulder he misses and makes contact with the swell of your belly and you freeze.

He knows he’s done something wrong, when he glances over again, the way your giggles die on your lips, the way you won’t look at him.

“What’s wrong princess?” He asks seriously.

“Nothing. Nothing, just drive.” Your voice sounds almost empty, but he doesn’t push any further.

Nancy knows, even if you won’t admit it at first, but she knows about your not so little crush. When you finally do admit it, she encourages you to do something about it, but you can’t… you couldn’t, could you? What if it ruined everything between the two of you… after all why would he ever look at you like that…

 It does no good to dwell on these thoughts, but they come up, every time you’re in his van, every time he looks at you with that glint in his eye, every time you’re sat in his bedroom… on his bed, smoking and laughing and forgetting who you are for just a split second. It gives you hope, but then it all comes crashing down around you.

 When he shows you how to roll your first joint, you can’t take your eyes off of him. You don’t hear a word he’s saying, it washes over you without comprehension. He sits facing you from the foot of your bed, you sit cross-legged facing him, leaning in slightly. 

You watch his nimble fingers working away, the way his tongue darts out to wet the paper, his eyes never leaving yours, making sure you pay attention. It makes you feel hot all over, squirming as he’s twisting off the end giving you a little grin, proudly showing it off, “… and that is how it’s done.”

“Uhh cool, thanks.” You move to pluck it from his fingertips but he snatches it away.

“Ah, ah, ah don’t you know the rules… roller’s rights?”

You look at him in confusion, he explains, “The roller always takes the first hit.”

“Oh, ok.” You mumble and settle back down into the pillows. He lights up the end then takes a few puffs before passing it over to you, you take a deep drag and choke almost immediately. He laughs before smacking you on the back, before rubbing in soothing circles “Hey, take it easy… just breathe.”

He reaches across you to the water sitting on your bedside table, “Here take a sip, it’ll help.”

You take a few sips of water and steady your breathing before he continues, his hand still on your back, “When you take a hit it’s just a few little breaths in, slowly, lightly. Don’t try to take too much at once, it’s not the same as smoking a cigarette, ok?”

“Yep, uhh huh.” You croak out.  

“And hold the smoke in your mouth first, then breathe in from here…” he rubs a hand over his belly, up high by his diaphragm.

“You wanna try again?”

You nod humming in response and he nods back for you to go ahead.

You follow his advice and it goes better, you try again and it’s even easier.

“Alright, now pass it back.” He holds out a hand and you hand it over to him.

“There, now give it a few minutes before you try again, it’s your first time don’t wanna go too hard, too fast.” He takes another puff.

You giggle, teasing, “But what if I want hard and fast?”

And then he’s choking, spluttering, coughing up smoke.

“Jesus H Christ… princess you can’t say shit like that, someone might take it the wrong way one day.” He gasps out.

You roll your eyes, “Eddie, come on no one is thinking of me like that, get real.”

He hesitates a moment, “What if… what if I told you I thought of you like that?”

“Haha, very funny…” you reply sarcastically, but he’s not laughing, “… wait a minute you’re serious?”

“Yeah, you got no fucking idea…”

“Are you sure that isn’t just the weed talking, I mean I heard it can make people-”

He cuts you off with a fierce kiss, pushing his lips to yours forcefully, nipping at your bottom lip gently, the joint burning down steadily in his limp grip. When he breaks away, he looks at you with lust clouded eyes, “Oh, I’m real fucking sure, princess. I have been crushing on you since God only knows when.”

You look up at him through your lashes, bashfully, “Ummm I’ve been crushing on you pretty much since the day we met.” You confess.

“Shit… can I fucking kiss you again?” He breathes out.

“Yeah… umm, maybe just get rid of that first.” You nod down to his fingers.

“Oh, right… yeah.” He mumbles reaching for his black metal lunchbox, snubbing out the joint on the lid and tossing it inside.

He looks back over at you, leaning in slowly, you don’t know why, but you’re blurting out, “imavirgin…” the words meld together in your embarrassment.

“What was that? Didn’t quite get that...”

You take a deep steadying breath, making sure to enunciate clearly this time, you repeat, “I’m a virgin.”

He lets out a guttural groan, “Fuck, princess is that true? No one… no one’s ever touched you before?”

“Umm no never… never been kissed before either…” You admit shyly.

“That’s quite a few firsts tonight, isn’t it? Do you wanna tackle a few more?”

You nod, pouting at him, “Please Eddie, kiss me again?”

“How could I refuse?”

He swoops in capturing your lips between his own once more, you feel his tongue probing for entrance you let out a needy whine and it’s slipping in alongside your own. 

You tangle your hands into his hair you gasp as he lifts you into his lap, you pull away, “Wh-what’re you doing, don’t I’m heavy…”

“Oh no, you are just perfect, you sit right there, right on top of my cock.” He emphasises this with a roll of his hips and the hard bulge of his dick grinds into your heated core. You whine again at the sensation, feeling a wetness pool between your thighs.

He pulls you back in for another kiss, sloppier than the previous and you grind back against him with a moan.

“Did you mean it?” He gasps into your mouth.

“Huh?”

“When you said you want it ‘hard and fast’… or was that just a joke?”

“I dunno… it wasn’t entirely a joke…”

“You think you can handle it hard and fast, do you think you’ll still like me after, if I’m rough?” He growls.

“Please Eddie, I want you. I want you so bad I can’t breathe.” You gasp.

“Ok, but we’re gonna start off slow alright? Then we can ramp it up to hard and fast.” He chuckles darkly.

As he resumes kissing you his hands move to lift your shirt and you pull away suddenly.

“You ok, sweetheart? You change your mind?” Concern laces his voice.

“No… no it’s not that… just, could we maybe turn the lights off…?”

It’s like a switch flips in his head, “Oh no, no sweetheart I wanna see all of you… every gorgeous bit. The things I would do to you…”

He groans his hands dropping to your plump legs that straddle his own, squeezing them softly, urging you to move against him more firmly, “Wanna bury my face between these thighs… so fucking gorgeous… wanna do so much with ‘em, bite ‘em, suck em, kiss ‘em… push your legs together and fuck them.”

He drops one hand to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh, he growls, “Oh and if you let me take you from behind, I could watch your ass jiggle as I pound into you, maybe slap it a bit if you’d let me… would you like that princess? Want me to slap that fucking glorious ass of yours? You have no idea how many times I’ve been distracted by just that… thinking about bending you over and just taking you…” You’re panting desperately at his touch, barely done anything and he’s already got you absolutely wrecked.

 He moves his hand up to your chest, groping your breasts he lets out a guttural moan as you whine pitifully, “And these tits, don’t even get me started on those… absolutely perfect… shove my face into them too, suck on your nipples, pinch ‘em ‘til you fucking scream… oh god, I’d love it if you held your tits together… let me fuck em ‘til I cum all over your pretty face, watch it drip down your chin…” his filthy mouth has you soaking your panties, grinding down into him.

You barely register that he’s popped the button on your jeans sliding them down slowly until he flips you over onto your back and you gasp, you never knew he was so strong, the way he was manhandling you like it was nothing. 

He kneels between your legs, towering over you, you yelp as he grabs your jeans roughly pulling them the rest of the way down before you can protest. 

You unconsciously tug the hem of your shirt lower to cover yourself and he swats your hands away, “Ah, ah sweetheart none of that I wanna see you… how about this, if I take off my shirt you let me take off yours?”

You bite you lip as you consider it, God do you wanna see him… bare chest, tattoos all on display… you nod nervously, mumbling “O-ok… b-but you first…?”

He concedes, “Ok, sweetheart me first.”

He hooks a hand into the collar of his shirt pulls it off and tosses it across the room blindly, your eyes rake over him, practically salivating at the sight, lingering on the sparse trail of hair peeking out over his belt. He’s smirking down at you as you pout up at him, “Pants too?”

“What about them?” He teases.

“Wan’ you to take yours off too… ‘s only fair…”

He grins devilishly, eyes glinting, “How about you take them off for me, princess?”

You sit up and place a shaky hand over his belt buckle, your fingers just grazing the hair of his happy trail. You undo the belt clumsily and unzip his jeans before rolling them down his thighs slowly. His baggy blue and white chequered boxers do little to hide his erection as it tents the fabric there. 

Before you can do anything else he’s pushing you back into the pillows behind you, “Now, I seem to remember that the deal was… tit for tat, or rather tats for tits you may say…” he chuckles.

You giggle and resist the urge to fight him when his hands drop to toy with the hem of your shirt, he leans in easing your shirt up, trailing kisses over your belly, your chest, until he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses that aside too, diving back in to kiss you eagerly on the lips. He pulls away leaving you breathless, humming in appreciation, “Beautiful…”

“Eddie stoop…” You whine swatting at him.

“Never, I meant what I said and I’m gonna suck on those tits ‘til you’re begging me for more… there’s uhh… something I want you to do for me though…”

“What’s that?” You mumble curiously.

“Don’t call me Eddie. Do you think you could… call me ‘daddy’ while we…”

You gasp, “Fuck… yeah I can do that for you… daddy.”

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart.” He moans encouragingly before ducking his head to the crook of your neck biting, kissing, mouthing on it as his hands wrap around you. Calloused, ringed fingers brush against your back as he fiddles with the clasp of your bra, he gets it loose and slips it off down your arms. 

He trails kisses down your chest until he reaches a nipple, sucking it into his mouth, laving over it with his tongue. His hands join his mouth, pushing your tits closer together, pinching and rolling the other nipple between his fingers. Your breath hitches at his ministrations and you let out a shaky moan.

“So, fucking responsive… love that I’m the only one who gets to do this to you…” He growls against your skin. He takes the hand closest to his mouth and caresses your mound, before dipping his fingers under the waistband. He runs his fingertips through your slick, teasing your entrance before dragging the up to circle your clit.

“All of this is just for me…” He murmurs, pulling away from you chest briefly.

“Yes, just you… no one else.” You gasp in response.

“God fucking damn, that’s right. I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this, isn’t that right?”

You mumble in assent, “Mhmmm that’s right… daddy, only you.”

“Fuck, princess gonna make me bust a nut and we haven’t even started yet.”

Your legs quiver on either side of him as he plunges two fingers into you crooking them against your soft, spongy walls. You can hear his rings clink together and feel them bump against your entrance, the sound met with a wet squelch as your cunt takes all he has to offer. 

His thumb moves to press against your clit in clumsy circles, you grab onto his shoulders tightly, there’s a tension mounting, coiling deep in your belly.

“That’s it princess, you gonna cum for daddy? Cum on my fingers for me.”

Something in you snaps and the tension is released all at once, your walls flutter on his fingertips, your release gushing all over them as you moan breathily.

He grins at you proudly as you gasp for breath, “So, another first for you… what’s that now, first joint, first kiss, first orgasm from my fingers… what’s next my tongue or my cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ Eddie…” he gives you a disapproving look and you try again, “please… please, daddy.”

“Please what, sweetheart… use your words.”

“Please… fuck me…” You whine.

“How do you want it?” He asks firmly, “Tongue. Or cock?”

“Wan’ your cock, wan’ you to fuck me hard, show me I’m yours…” You whimper in response, weakly reaching for his boxers.

“You on any kind of birth control, sweetheart?” He asks in earnest.

“Mhhmm… yep I am.”

“Good… that’s good… now you’re sure about this, right?”

“Yes, never wanted anything more in my life… please…”

He ducks down and presses a kiss to your thigh before tugging your panties down your legs. He looks up at you with a little grin, panties hanging off his finger, “Mind if I keep these?”

“You can have whatever you want so long as you make me cum again daddy…”

He groans in response eyes squeezing shut briefly, and he palms at his cock. He drapes your panties over his lunchbox before sliding down his boxers to join his jeans. His thick, weepy length bobs up between his legs, precum bubbling up at the flushed tip. You gasp at the sight, “You’re so… big… can I touch it first?”

“Gonna gimme an ego sweetheart…” he mumbles as he reaches out for your hand guiding it onto his stiff length.

His precum slicks the motions of your hand, he controls the pace, running your hand along his length the way he likes. You devote all your attention to his cock while he watches you appreciatively.

When you swipe your thumb over the head on the upstroke, he growls lowly, “That’s enough now, princess. This time you’re gonna soak my cock with that tight little cunt of yours.” He looks into your eyes, his own dark with lust.

He pulls his jeans and boxers all the way off dropping them over the edge of the bed.

He pushes you back down into the pillows with a hand on your shoulder before moving to sweep your hair out of your face. He grabs your hand, slick and sticky from rubbing his flushed cock and holds it in front of your face, “Look you got your hand all messy. Lick it clean princess.” He orders.

He pushes your own hand to your mouth and you swipe your tongue over your palm before wrapping your lips around your fingers with a low moan. “Such a good girl for daddy.” He hums, you can taste him on your skin you whine as you imagine what it would be like to suck on his fat cock. 

He smirks down at you while he grips his shaft at the base, rubbing the head through your glistening folds. Then another image springs to mind, one he’d painted for you, of him fucking your breasts, losing himself completely and cumming all over your face… how high would it splatter, would it get in your mouth, would it taste like this.

He pulls your hand away from your mouth leaning in for a kiss as he forces his tip inside your dribbling entrance. He swallows up all your little whines and gasps as he drops a hand between you to rub at your swollen clit. He sinks into you further and further until he’s buried deeper than you ever thought possible.

“Gonna give it to you hard and fast real soon princess, but we gotta get you a little warmed up for me first…”

He rolls his hips thrusting shallowly as you adjust to the sensation.

“Please… hmmm… fuck, faster please daddy. Feels so… mhnnn… feels so good” You pant out, hips rising to meet his.

“With pleasure sweetheart.” His hands move to grip your hips bruisingly tight. As he increases the pace, you feel his balls slapping against your ass, the room is filled with all sorts of obscene, wet sounds. 

You twist your hand into his curls, gazing up at his rosy face, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes blown wide with lust. When you give a little tug on his hair, he lets out a deep, rumbling moan.

He hooks his arms beneath your legs pulling them up over his shoulders sinking into you deeper with this new angle, “You like being filled up, sweetheart? Feel so good when daddy’s deep in you? You gonna let me cum buried inside you?”

“Please… god yes, want it so bad daddy, want you to fill me up with your cum.”

He brings a hand up to your chin, thumb sliding over it ‘til it rests on your bottom lip as you whimper beneath him, he eases his thumb between your lips and you suck on it mindlessly.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you right?”

You nod, mumbling around his thumb in agreement.

“Then open.” He forces your jaw down with his thumb, you look up at him a little confused.

Suddenly he spits in your mouth, ramming his cock into you at the same time, you whimper.

“Now swallow.” He demands and you do so, your saliva mixing with his as it slides down your throat and your walls flex around him of their own accord.

“Oh, you liked that did you?”

“Y-yes daddy.”

“Oh, you’re such a good girl for me. You do like it hard, don’t you? Gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk.”

“Please… fuck, please gonna cum again.”

“Then cum for me. Squeeze on my dick, lemme feel it. Cum for daddy.”

You wail, chanting “Daddy, daddy, daddy… fuck ‘m cumming.” Your back arches, head thrown back gasping as you clamp down around him, your release running over his cock in rivulets and he continues to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm. 

You fall back limply still spasming around him when he reaches his peak, he growls, “Yeah that’s it princess, you’re gonna take all my fucking cum… take everything daddy gives you.”

He empties his heavy balls deep inside you with a deep, strung-out groan, you can feel his warm seed flood your cunt, drenching your already slick channel.

He collapses on top of you, sweaty bodies pressed together and he tries to nuzzle in even closer.

“God, that was good sweetheart.” He pants in your ear.

“Yeah.” You mumble in agreement running a hand over his back tracing random patterns.

He sighs and you feel his breath against your cheek while his cock softens slowly slipping out of you. You can feel your combined fluids leaking out of your entrance slipping down between your ass to pool on your bed. 

Eddie rolls off of you wandering off naked, when he returns, he’s cleaned himself off, approaching you carrying a warm, damp cloth, he runs it over your body soothingly, between your legs cleaning you off. 

He stoops down untangling his boxers from his jeans slipping them on as he moves to your wardrobe rifling around til he finds some pyjamas. He helps you into them gently and wraps the covers around you and turns out the lights before slotting himself in behind you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and wraps his arms around you with a sigh.

You melt into his embrace and he wishes you sweet dreams, you return the sentiment. The pair of you doze off smiling contentedly in your post-orgasm bliss.

Eddie wakes in very early hours of the morning, still happy and content, girl of his dreams wrapped up in his arms. His thoughts turn sour as he lays there, the demons in his head tormenting him…

Jesus Christ what have you done, that was her first time you fucking pig… you told her to call you ‘daddy’ what is wrong with you… fucking freak… shit that’s what everyone’s gonna think the freak and the fatty, both of you together that’ll send them all into a frenzy and her oh, she’ll never hear the end of it, do you really think she deserves that… do you think you deserve to be happy…

And he’s slipping out from under the covers shrouded in his shame, careful not to rouse you he dresses and collects his belongings. He pauses briefly before pocketing your panties, one last little souvenir. Sick pervert. He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts before taking off into the early dawn.

You wake up a few hours later, sore, mumbling his name, hands searching for his warmth only to come up with nothing. Eyes snapping open you look around in confusion, you find that all of his belongings are gone all evidence that he was even here gone. 

He’d be back, for sure he’d be back. Why would he leave…? But he doesn’t come back, doesn’t answer any of your calls. This continues for the rest of the weekend, you convince yourself it’ll be different when you get to school.

Monday rolls around, your stomach twists into knots, did he regret it, wake up next to you with a sudden clarity, no longer horny or high and realise he didn’t actually want someone who looked like you. Or maybe he was just worried what other people would think if he dated someone like you… good enough to fuck, but not good enough to keep around. 

You can’t believe that you’d let yourself believe that it could be something more for even a second. Tears sting your eyes and you swipe them away angrily, you huff sulking off into the bathroom, don’t be so fucking dumb, of course he wouldn’t want you just deal with it. You splash cold water over your face and take a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

 You end up late for homeroom, only just entering the room as the teacher calls your name. Eddie isn’t sitting in his usual seat, instead he’s sat beside Gareth chatting away about something to do with the band and their show tomorrow night.

He doesn’t look at you as you pass him, you slink off to the last available seats, it’s fine, it’s fine… more tears threaten to slip out but you bite them back.

He avoids you for the rest of the day, you don’t even see him at lunch, but then you pass him on your way out of the cafeteria, you call out to him, “Hey, Eddie there you are I’ve been looking for you all day.”

But he walks right passed you, blank-faced, staring straight passed you. It’s like a knife to your heart, your frozen can’t move, can’t speak, the tears you’ve been fighting all day spill out. Someone bumps into your shoulder and of course it has to be them, “Watch it fatass.” 

And there’s giggles as they walk on you can hear them saying to one another, “She was fucking crying did you see her, what a fucking loser… not even the freak wants to be seen with her now.”

That’s the final straw, you don’t even bother collecting your stuff from your locker you just… leave. You walk all the way home blindly, the tears stoped at some point leaving your eyes puffy and stinging, your nails dig into your palms leaving little half-moon impressions.

You let yourself in trudging to your room, stripping off your clothes and pulling on anything that’s nearby before crawling into bed burying yourself beneath the covers.

Your mum wakes you when she gets home, you brush her off telling her you’re not feeling well, trying to pass it off as really bad period cramps. You tell her you might not go in to school tomorrow, she offers to bring you something to eat and a hot water bottle you nod mutely, you don’t really feel like talking much.

 You spend the next few days like that in a haze, numb to the world but acutely aware of the stabbing pain in your chest and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. By the fourth day Nancy stops by to check on you, it’s not like you to miss so many days of school, let alone walk out in the middle of the day.

She enters your room tentatively calling out to you, she sits on the edge of your bed as you groan from your cocoon of blankets.

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

You give a little grunt, she brushes your greasy hair behind your ear gently, “Want a hug?” She offers.

“No, ‘m all gross.” You mumble pulling your self to sit up at the very least, but then the tears flow anew, that’s exactly why he doesn’t want you… fat, ugly, gross, loser… every insult ever hurled at you streams through your brain.

Nancy wraps her arms around you despite your attempts to push her away.

“You know I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. Your mum said you haven’t been eating properly, won’t come out of your room, i haven’t seen you like this since… well in a really long time.”

You breathe in shakily trying to stem the flow of tears, “I’m a fucking idiot that’s what’s wrong.”

“Hey, hey that’s not true, tell me what actually happened.”

You shake your head pushing away from her, “Can’t.”

“Tough ‘cause I’m not leaving ‘til you do.” She folds her arms over her chest giving you a determined look.

“Well, be prepared to stay a while then.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” She chides.

“You don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Fine, Ugh fine…”

“Go on I’m listening.”

“He doesn’t want me, doesn’t want anything to do with me now.” You can’t bring yourself to look at her while you speak.

“Who’re you talking about?”

“Eddie.”

“That’s not possible, that guy looks at you like you hung the moon. What happened? Did you tell him how you feel or…”

“No… well yes, but… ok, so he came over Friday night. You know how my parents went away?” She nods as you continue, “So, I asked him what it was like to smoke weed, like we always smoke together when we’re at his place, but never that and he was showing me how to roll a joint and god he looked so hot and I made some dumb joke about wanting it ‘hard and fast’ and he kissed me and told me he had a crush on me and I told him as well… and one thing kinda led to another and we ended up having sex and…” you trail off uncertain of how much detail is too much detail.

“None of that sounds bad so far, where did you get the idea that he doesn’t want you if he’s already slept with you.”

“When I woke up in the morning… after… he was gone, he didn’t answer any of my calls the whole weekend but I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt… I dunno, whatever. Anyway then at school on Monday he acted like I didn’t even exist, walked right passed me and they had to see it, had to comment on it.”

You hazard a glance at her and you can practically see the steam billowing out from her ears, “I’m sorry he what?!”

“I just I don’t wanna talk about it anymore, the year’s almost over and just like before he’ll be disappearing from my life again… this time just a little sooner than planned.”

“I’m gonna talk to him.” She says firmly.

“What? No! Nance don’t… please don’t… promise me you won’t.”

“I…” she falters at the look in your eye, “Alright, fine I won’t.”

You shoot her a stern look, “Really, I promise I won’t.” She insist.

“I mean it don’t.” You finish firmly.

“Ok… have you eaten today? What did you have?”

“I did, I had tea and crackers.”

“Is that it? All day that’s all you had?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s not like I’m doing anything today other than wallowing in bed and it’s not as if I’ll starve to death.”

“You know starving yourself is just as bad as overeating, neither of which is going to help you right now. Come on get out of bed go have a shower, I’ll make you something to eat and we can watch a movie… we haven’t had a girl’s night in a while you know.”

 You give in to her pestering and it does help to take your mind off things for a bit. She makes you promise that she’ll see you up and about next week.

Nancy doesn’t break her promise at first, not exactly but she does go straight to Steve right after your little ‘girl’s night’.

“You want me to what?”

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, relax it’s not that big a deal just talk to the guy.”

“Why me? If it’s not such a big deal you talk to him.”

“I told you I promised y/n I wouldn’t so I’m not.”

“Still don’t get why it has to be me.” He grumbles.

“What are you scared of him or something?” She teases.

“No! It’s just weird you want me to talk to him about his sex life, c’mon that’s weird.”

“Hey, y/n is your friend too and she’s really hurting right now, just talk to the guy.”

“Why couldn’t it be one of those Hellfire guys instead?”

“Well, I don’t really know them, I know you… but I guess we could talk to them too. Maybe they could help, we can ask Mike where to find them.”

 That’s how they find themselves grouped together with a couple of the guys from Hellfire Club, on Eddie Munson’s front porch. Nancy knocks on the front door and Eddie tumbles out to greet them “Wheeler? Harrington? The fuck are you two doing here?”

He spots Gareth and Jeff just behind them, “Emerson… what the fuck is going on?”

Nancy pokes him in the chest angrily, “Inside. Now, Munson.”

He holds up his hands in surrender stumbling backwards inside the trailer.

When everyone is inside, he tries again, “Right, so is anyone gonna fill me in here? What the fuck is going on?”

The boys let her go off on her tirade, her promise to you forgotten amidst her anger, “Don’t play dumb Munson, we’re here about what happened with y/n.”

“Shit… yeah I know I took things too far but tell her it’s ok, I’ll stay away from now on.”

“That is exactly the problem, why are you staying away?”

“Just imagine what people would say about us, the freak and the fatty…”

Gareth speaks up taken aback, “What the fuck man since when do you call her that?”

Eddie sighs “I don’t, it’s just what people would say and she doesn’t deserve that, she doesn’t need people judging her and they would if we were together. Why would anyone want to be seen with the freak nah she doesn’t need that.”

“Since when has that stopped her before, she’s with you all the time?” Jeff counters.

“Yeah, but that’s different it’ll be so much worse for her if we’re dating, this is for her own good, she’d be better off without me all together.” He protests with a tone of finality.

“Shouldn’t you let her decide that for herself? You don’t think you’re hurting her right now… acting like this. Imagine what she’s feeling, what she’s thinking. She’s alone in her room, hasn’t left for days, hasn’t been eating, torturing herself over why you’d do this.” Nancy attempts to reason with him.

Reality comes crashing down around him as he realises what he’s done, “Oh fuck I’m… shit I’m a fucking asshole. I let my own fucking insecurities get to me I didn’t stop to think how she’d feel, how she’d see it… fuck, fuck, fuck.” He paces back and forth tugging on his curls anxiously. His head snaps up, locking on to Nancy, “What do I do… what can I do?”

Steve speaks up for the first time, side-eyeing Nancy as he does so, “You fucking apologise man, take her flowers, beg for her forgiveness… whatever it takes.”

“Right… right.” He mutters to himself before his head pops up again, “You guys uh wanna like leave, or…?”

“Yeah, we’ll go.” Steve replies leading the way out of the trailer.

Nancy lets the other two go first before turning back to Eddie, “You fix this Munson… and I was never here, ok?”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uhh… yeah ok.”

He stands beneath your bedroom window tossing rocks at it til one connects. You peek your head out at the noise and see him standing there, arms laden with flowers and candy. You don’t quite trust yourself to speak first so you stare down at him expectantly.

He finally breaks the silence, “Can I come in? We gotta talk.”

Your despair solidifies into bitter anger, “Oh, now you wanna talk… fuck off.”

“Please… please just hear me out.” He calls back desperately.

“Why the fuck should I? I gave you so many chances, why now?”

“I’m a fucking idiot, I know that and I’m sorry I’m so so sorry. Please just let me in, let me explain and then I’ll go if you want, I promise.”

“Alright, fine. You better make it quick though… you know the way in. Come up.” You slip back into your room slamming the window shut.

He takes the stairs in leaps and bounds when he gets inside, hesitating outside your bedroom before steeling himself and opening the door.

The second he steps inside it’s like all moisture is wicked away from his mouth he stands there for a moment in silence. You prompt him to begin, “Well? You gonna actually speak or-”

He blurts out, “I love you…”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, sure you fucking do… not falling for that one again.”

He persists, “I’m really, really, really sorry, you have no idea. I uh got these for you.” He thrusts out the flowers and a box of candy in your direction.

You eye them sceptically, snarling, “And what some flowers and chocolates are gonna make me just fall right into bed with you again… ‘daddy’?”

“I never should have… I took things way too far for your first time I am so fucking sorry. I really do love you though.” He says in earnest.

Your voice cracks, “Why did you leave? Why do you always fucking leave me?”

“Because I was a dumb fucking piece of shit too wrapped up in my own insecurities… thinking I don’t deserve you, don’t deserve happiness… worried about what people would think of you if you were dating me, the things they’d say…thought you’d be better off without me.”

“It’s not on you to make decisions like that for me, you ass. The things people would say about me because I’m dating you… fuck that’d just fly right over my head ‘cause I’d be with you. And that shit about you not deserving happiness is just that, absolute shit… of course you deserve happiness. And by doing this you deprived both of us of a chance at happiness.”

“Is… is it too late… can I… can we try again?” He stutters out hopefully.

Your resolve slips, “You really hurt me Munson…”

His face falls, “I know, I’m so sorry… and I will spend the rest of my fucking life making it up to you if… if you’d let me?”

“It… it wasn’t too far you know, umm I actually really liked it… all of it.”

His eyes search your own desperately, “Does that mean…?”

“Yes Eddie, it means we can try again.”

His face lights up and he drops the flowers and the candy onto your bed, he moves towards you but stops suddenly, “Can… can I kiss you?”

You give a small nod and he dives in kissing you slowly, deeply, with purpose. He pulls away and asks breathily, “Can I stay the night?”

“Don’t push your luck.” You warn.

He gasps, “No! Not… not like that… I mean not that I wouldn’t want that, but… I mean, just let me sleep here, that’s it just sleep, cuddle a bit. Then in the morning I’ll show you how it should have gone the first time, like this past week never happened.”

“O-ok, yeah we can do that.”

“Thank you.” He hums pulling you against him, nuzzling into your neck.

And true to his word that is all you do that night, falling asleep wrapped up in one another, peacefully. He wakes you in the morning with a sweet kiss, he says he’d offer to make you breakfast but the best he could do is cereal so he takes you out to the diner instead.

When you tell Nancy what happened she doesn’t seem too surprised, “Good I’m glad the two of you worked that out, I’m happy for you really… but if he ever does anything like that again you tell me straight away. I’ll sort him right out.”

You shoot her a suspicious look, “Nance, did you talk to him?”

“What? No! No, I promised I wouldn’t… it was Steve and a couple of your Hellfire friends I swear.”

“Uh huh and how did they know about it?” You probe.

She folds easily, “Alright fine I talked to him, I’m sorry but-”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I’m glad you did, thank you.”

“No problem… so, now can we talk about it… what’s he like in the bedroom?”

You gasp mock scandalised, “Nancy Wheeler, how dare you…” you can’t maintain it for long and burst into giggles, “He is gooood I’ll say that much, very generous in every sense of the word.”

She raises a brow, “You mean…” and indicates size with her hands.

You nod “Oh, boy do I, and he knows what to do with it.”

She chuckles at your response, you ask about her, “How’re you and Jonathan?”

“Good, we’re good…”

The two of you chat long into the night, you’re glad of a friend like her, glad she stepped in when she did else who knows how things could’ve gone.

[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 ⬇️

[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!)

[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.

[cursedzucchini]

Dp x DC prompt #whatever

Guys this has been rotting in my brain for the past month and i think it has lots of potential.

So basically Danny & Damian childhood friends.

Somehow, someway (maybe after five years old Damian kills one too many instructors, which are irreplaceable, maybe his arrogance causes one too many failures) Talia convinces Ra's to put weekly 'play dates' with the other league's children. These play dates are supposed to show Damian his superiority over them, but also make him care for his future subjects.

What the two didn't account for, was, well... Children.

Damian wasn't the mildest child, not was he trying to be likeable. He didn't see the point. And when you add their parents repeating over and over again how important the new child is.. no wonder all of them were scared to even look at him.

The chosen child himself was quite happy with this development. He didn't want to be there in first place, especially because he was specifically forbidden from cutting down any annoyances. So it was a good thing none of them dared to come to 10 meters radius to him. He didn't mind the children immidietly bursting into tears, when they lock eyes. He didn't feel angry, because these weren't even children of any important people, with no obligations to be nice to him, and they didn't even dare to breath in his vicinity (seriously, a boy passed out because he didn't wish to breath when Damian was sitting few spaces next to him. It was ridiculous).

He didnt feel like an outsider, he felt like their leader. He didn't feel loneliness, he felt proud. He didn't, he did.

So.. when a child, always sitting in a corner staring at the sky, was cornered by several of the other children, he didn't do anything. He was someone they should follow, he did not owe them to solve their petty rivalries. (Even if they insulted the child for their expressionless face, for being unable to recognize their imaginery rules of some bigger game, for being different. Even when Damian started realizing with more and more terror, this would be him, if he wasn't All Ghul)

...

...maybe he should establish himself as a good leader, by helping them. This once at least.

Damian walked closer, only wanting to discuss whatever bullying problem was happening, but the moment the children saw him, they ran. Well, most of them at least.

Danyal was the child of some lower member of the league (maybe even someone who was under their protection, doesn't matter). He was a very quiet, some would even say antisocial. He would spend all his time staring at the stars and not mingling with his peers. He didn't often wore any sort of expression, but once Damian spend more time with him (unwillingly might he add, even if it was him who looked for the other boy, and maybe it wasn't unwillingly, but that's not something he wants to think about. Ever), he realized, Danyal was full of them. Every time he talked about the stars, mentioned the new book his parents gifted him, and as the time went, when Damian himself was mentioned, the demon's heir couldn't help but think the older boy would burst from them.

Damian still wasn't quite sure why he was hated by their his peers. He knew some people would find Danyal strange, but he didn't quite understood (wasn't he the same? Why was he brilliant perfect amazing but Danyal strange idiot weird?).

But what he did know for sure, was that Danyal was his. He was his subject, someone he took under his wing to protect, and in exchange, Danyal would look after him too. It might be helping him out with any assassination attempts, or telling him the stories of space, when the younger boy couldn't force his tongue to form words.

Or at least he had been.

The family Danyal was from was poor. So when one of the tougher times came, it wasn't strange one of their children had to go. And what choice it was, picking between healthy beautiful children and a 'ghost living in a body'.

Only Damian hated it. He didn't understand. While yes, Danyal was his subject, he had many of them. If he wanted to be a good leader, he can't just focus on one them. That would be unfair. He saw this choice being made so many times and he was never bothered by it, so why now—

In the end he never discovered the answer. He locked the question deep inside his chest, inside his heart, where nothing could ever reach. He was Al Ghul, he was too great to be caught of guard and be strucked in it.

So when years and years later, when he was already living with his father for some time, he saw a black haired, blue eyed teen with tan skin, and the same grin his friend subject had, of course it was natural he knocked him out and brought him into the manor.

Not because he missed Danyal or anything of course. He had to... Check if this was some sort of plot of his Mother. Naturally.

[yonicgirldick]

ohhhh to be the runt of a litter of puppygirls

all my sisters are so much bigger and stronger than me so they get to bully me around and always win when we wrestle. And once they have me pinned down, their sharp strong jaws dig in and leave bruises all over, because "If you didn't deserve to be bruised by bites, your skin would be tougher." They even started competing with each other to see who could leave the most marks on me, because I'm so easy to pin down

whenever they get worked up, they always have me around to let some steam off with, and it's extra fun for them because I'm so small their big knotted cocks hurt a tonnn, but I can't complain because if I do they just muzzle me and have all my sisters come teach me a lesson

[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

[vro0m]

Thoughts about the Lewis x Jay Shetty podcast and how they relate to frequent themes, for my future reference :

Loneliness : (Abu Dhabi 2011)

I wonder what his socialization was like given he was bullied at school and then away on the weekends. Did he have friends? Did he get to spend time with other kids in normal situations? He said “missed a lot of that social interaction also.”

Couldn't talk to his parents, mom because she couldn't understand the racial abuse, dad because he would see it as weakness

It's interesting that he thinks basically the drivers should be friends because they have a lot in common but they can't because of how the sport is and it's also sad. I wonder how he feels about it, he didn't say. 

The loneliness of being the first and only

Injustice : (Belgium 2014)

The school trauma seems much more extensive than I thought although he mentions it often

He felt like the school system was against him -> feeds into things we talked about re: being repeatedly exposed to injustice and never feeling like anyone has his back (+ can't talk to his parents or any adults about it = loneliness) -> trust issues + need for control + gets paranoid at times

Anthony :

Tougher than I thought... I mean I knew he wasn't warm and outwardly loving but the whole crying is for the weak is explicitly harsh

It's curious Lewis mentions the effects of bad report cards in abusive households. Does he consider his household abusive, then?

He mentions needing to win to be accepted aka rejection if he doesn't win? That's harsh af.

Then he adds the not winning is losing bit I mean...

Mentions again the conflict with his dad which is A Big Thing in his life

Mental health :

I feel like he still has a lot of work to do because right now it’s “yeah everything was bad and I suppressed a lot of it but I’m fine lol.” Kinda feels like he's not done unpacking but hey what do I know (answer : nothing)

The rollercoaster you go through from the extremes that sports put you through is so fascinating to me and I wish I could do a research project on it like fr. I would love to do study cases of athletes to see how it impacts the way they function as human beings. I have a hunch it truly modifies the way they process things.

Always the search for bigger meaning and sense, his place in the world -> need to belong (-> loneliness + injustice)

It's interesting how much tension he lives in with his perfectionism and the whole life flashing before his eyes in his last lap for the 2020 WDC, and the pressure he puts on himself and other put on him, and all that. I wonder what it's gonna be like for him psychologically once he doesn't have to live like that anymore. I wonder if he'll be able to let go of it. 

The competitiveness never going away is another type of energy that I wonder about. Where will he put it? What will he do with it? How is it gonna affect him without the F1 outlet? It might be good or bad.

Very interesting asking him about being alone with his own thoughts in the car, too bad he didn't really answer. 

Not surprised he wasn't kind to himself, that goes with the perfectionist/control theme + Anthony + injustice

The need to belong but the difficulty to build trust because of past experiences is everywhere (injustice + Anthony + loneliness)

F1 :

The whole part about it being intense when he got in F1 because he wasn’t PR taught is spot-on with things I noted in the rewatch, aka the video where he said he didn’t know if he still enjoyed it.

The three steps of you part is spot-on re: the recurrent topic of his true self vs his PR persona and the difference between the two and the circumstances that gave birth to the latter

I love that he said you get more and more in your shell and you become harder to relate to. Great insight.

The way him and Toto relate to each other although being different -> the parallels in their trajectories (cf. the essay)

I like that he didn't wanna wear the stupid race as one shirt.

He is indeed preparing his retirement very actively.

Other :

The whole part about him being from a biracial family is so interesting. Good insight.

Kinda tired of the inspiration pxrn ngl but I like that despite that and him saying you can do whatever you want he ultimately understands that it's not that easy and that there's social structures in place preventing that from being true. It's interesting how he goes back and forth about it at the moment but not surprising (cf. end of positive thinking post)

Jay Shetty has really good questions but a lot of time Lewis doesn't really answer them, it's a shame.

I admire his sense of responsibility but also it's so hard on people like him. You get the few or lone person fighting their way into a world that's basically closed to them and then they have that added work of taking on that responsibility on top of everything else. Unfair.

Storytelling as a tool is something he uses a lot actually, hence maybe all the maxims or whatever they're called.

I didn't see the criticism of capitalism coming lol. Easy to make fun of but in his defense, it's not like there's a manuel on what to do with your money when you think you shouldn't have that much. We will see, it's an interesting development.

[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.

[discet]

So, what about this idea: what if Sasha was either never born or never met Anne/Marcy (whichever one's more interesting)? How would Anne and Marcy be affected, and would they still go to Amphibia?

I actually kind of already did a backstory for this a while back with a star vs. crossover ask.

Essentially what it boils down to is that the two end up with a very sweet and wholesome friendship dynamic, but their school life is a lot tougher. Anne does her best to stand up for Marcy, but has trouble standing up for herself. Years of bullying having a similar effect as Sasha's put downs in the long run.

Which would only get worse if the two develop and then realize their crushes on one another. I doubt they would be very good at hiding it and going to a Catholic school while dating could paint a bigger target on their backs. [Though For the Sake of this AU, lets say they aren't together yet.]

As for going to Amphibia, I would guess probably not. I think Marcy would still panic after finding out she was moving, but I don't think she would be in the library on Anne's birthday without Sasha to press Anne to play hooky. So she doesn't know that the box was special, and even if she did I don't think she would think to steal it or pressure Anne to do so.

Though its not like you couldn't contrive to get them there if you really wanted it. Maybe by accident? If so, I think their adventure would be very different.

I imagine it would be a lot less dramatic. More of a survival/road trip sort of story, with it being about the two growing closer and embracing some of the feelings that they didn't feel safe/comfortable with revealing back home.

It would be very different tonally basically, and long term I don't know what it would look like.

[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.

[hiyorisarugaki]

does hiyori believe callous or otherwise cruel behavior needs to be warranted? that something needs to justify the way someone behaves?

Yes. Remember she has also been a vicious girl for a long time. She would often overreact in situations and be unnecessarily mean about things. But, she doesn't believe in outright cruelty or manipulation.

Every time she has threatened to really hurt someone, she always threatens them and gives them reasons. She often says she hates so and so, but she hasn't really harmed a single shinigami at all. Those slaps and smacks are comic relief and used on people that could easily give her JUST AS MUCH BACK. She isn't like Loly/Menoly level cruel of a bully to hit someone who can't hurt her back.

She's also known to hold herself back when it really comes down to it. She acts really tough and makes herself appear bigger and tougher and meaner than she actually is to hide her own insecurities and issues.

She could never hurt Kensei or Mashiro and spent a long portion of her time deflecting their attacks during the hollowfication night. She knew they were in their overpowered hollow state, outnumbered and outranked and still didn't pull out her zanpakuto.

The man she hated for a 100 years- she spent a good portion of her time just talking to Aizen. Telling him exactly the reason she had to kill him. Hiyori is an emotional/reactive fighter. She lunged at him only after he had started mocking Shinji and the visored. Slighted and hurt, she leapt into action to defend her friends without even thinking. She didn't even use her hollow mask and almost died because she was too emotional.

[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!!!!!!!!!!