#so I have to think of something people have actually heard of…

[dorliart]

Oooh.

Am I the Asshole for ruining my best friends excitement?

Im going to have to keep this very vague for personal reasons, so throwaway Account naturally.

Okay so for context, I'm originally not from The Isles and have found myself there now. (I know, I know, big deal woah etc. I'm using a vpn, and being safe, don't worry). So I've been living with some people on one of the isles, everyone has been truly very friendly and welcoming despite me not once having told them where I'm from exactly. But I feel like I've made friends and maybe even people I would consider my family. Now here's the problem. Apparently where I am now people have been really pushing the First Flight Ritual. At first it was only sort of vaguely talked about at school, and people have been bringing it up around me a lot since my wings have already fully grown in, a bit early. I had assumed it was a myth or legend or at most something older cousins tell their younger cousins when they want to look cool or intimidate them, but apparently not?? It keeps getting talked about more seriously, and even teachers and educators have started bringing it up.

Well and here's the actual problem. My best friend has been talking about it just as long, having heard about it from their big sibling a lot (which they really miss since they moved, so I get it) but they've been getting more extreme with it. They talk about actually wanting to take part in it as soon as their wings have grown in, even! If they haven't finished growing in! Like what! I thought it was common sense to know how fragile newly ingrown wings are, especially with not having been able to put any muscle strength on them?

I have been trying to reason with them for the better part of two weeks, but they won't listen at all. I've tried to explain it to them, but it was no use. And it's not like they don't know the risks either. They're so smart and they know about biology enough to know that this is not a smart course of action, they just won't admit it!

Things finally came to an all out argument a few days ago, when I all out told them how incredibly stupid this was. They could die!! But they didn't care. Just said I was selfish and was ruining what they were working and excited for, and jealous of their ambition. I'm still furious about it, but after storming off I've done a bit of reflection and while I don't regret what I've said and my stance, I do feel a little bad about having blown up so much.

So, am I the asshole for telling my friend it's stupid to participate in a ritual that is very likely to kill them?

Edit: guys I know it's a sacred ritual and everything but don't y'all think it might be wrong to continue a ritual that is actively killing people??? What is wrong with you

Edit 2: yes I will be deleting comments calling me a traitor and telling me to move down. This is not helping the conversation here.

if you're trying to get into the head of your story's antagonist, try writing an "Am I the Asshole" reddit post from their perspective, explaining their problems and their plans for solving them. Let the voice and logic come through.

[nkjemisin]

Fiction is not reality

Got three or four asks lately about an old Le Guin-inspired short story, "The Ones Who Stay and Fight." Did somebody post an article or something? I haven't gotten any alerts that would explain the sudden interest. (Did see one annoying AI-written summary that hallucinated new characters into it and said I'd written it in 1973, when I would've been one year old. Don't use AI for lit crit, folks.)

Anyway, rather than answer them individually, I'll post this as a collective response.

All of the asks were about the story's meaning, in one way or another, so I'll start there -- but. Y'all. The author is usually the worst person to ask about what their work means; haven't you heard that the author is dead? We're too close to our own work to do good analysis. I can tell you what inspired it, or what I was thinking while I wrote it, but that doesn't mean I put all that into the story, or successfully got across whatever did make it in. Pretty often my writing doesn't mean anything; it's just something I need to get out of my head.

The asks seem to center on whether I actually intended Um-Helat to be a utopia, and -- no. I thought it was pretty obviously a dystopia, actually, like Omelas... but then I constantly run into people who describe Omelas as a utopia, so maybe the problem lies with people's definition of "utopia." (Personally I don't believe utopias are possible IRL. Anytime you've got more than one person in a society, their respective visions of an "ideal" society will vary, and sometimes conflict.) I was exploring my own struggle with envisioning a society free of bigotry, and Le Guin's narrative -- which gently pokes at the reader's skepticism and jadedness -- spoke to me in that moment of need. So I decided to do some poking of my own, from a different angle, to see if that helped clarify anything for me. I liked the result enough to publish it in How Long Til Black Future Month, tho it's since been reprinted in many places.

That said, a couple of the asks went to a weird place, and I feel like I need to address it. You folks do know that a story's narrative voice is not the same as the author's voice, right? So for example, in "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," the omniscient first-person narrator of the story is not Le Guin. What that narrator believes is not necessarily what Le Guin believes, or vice versa. She didn't tell you about the abused child in Omelas because she thought it was A-OK to abuse kids as scapegoats/representations of the evils of the world. Likewise, I didn't tell you about the traumatized child in Um-Helat because I think it's A-OK to stab possible bigots. The narrator is another part of the story. It's fiction, not an essay, or a confessional.

It feels weird to have to say this, because it seems so obvious to me... but we are on the "piss on the poor" site, after all, in a time when critical thinking is under literal attack from The Powers That Be, so I guess I gotta. I do not stab people, not even bigots. I am not pro-stabbing or pro-childhood trauma. I am somewhat pro-transdimensional-travel, but that's neither here nor there.

Oh -- and sidenote, but I've been ridiculously busy lately, and I'm working through the backlog of asks very slowly. If you've sent in something, I will hopefully get to it within a month or two. Hopefully.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Hello, requesting "sleeping in" thank you 🙏

Hello. I’m here, months later. Here’s something.

Buck sleeps in. Eddie’s not sure if that’s a surprise or not. He's long had the somewhat infuriating habit of not plugging his phone in overnight on his days off — theoretically to discourage scrolling on it all night and wasting the battery, but half the time it results in him sheepishly charging it up from fully dead on a page about deep sea ethernet cables or something around noon the next day. So, yeah, his phone is an expensive brick on the nightstand, alarm not even an option, and it's not like they haven't had an extremely eventful last couple of days, almost 24 hours of which Buck had spent in a car headed one way or another. Eddie understands the exhaustion. But, well- he's awake. He kind of feels like his limbs are vibrating with the feeling of- relief, or terror, or joy, or- the feeling of being home. Home, here. Los Angeles, South Bedford, the home he — and Chris — had spent years building, a home of course neither of them could leave behind for long. He lays here, in his own bed, Buck snoring next to him and Chris down the hall, and he wonders why he ever thought he’d belong anywhere else.

Buck shuffles a little and Eddie thinks for a moment maybe- but he just snorts a little and keeps dreaming. Eddie tries to tamp down on the kind of sleepover giddiness bubbling up in his chest — wake up wake up wake up — and takes the opportunity to watch his best friend. His- whatever. Whatever they are now that Eddie knows what kissing him is like, quickly and quietly in his parent’s backyard, now that Eddie has stumbled his way through a question — “Why are you- why did you- all of this- do you- do you-“ — and Buck had frowned a little, not in an unhappy way but in his serious way, and had heard the real thing Eddie had wanted to know, and said “Eddie- of course I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Eddie whispers now, because he hadn’t the other night. He thinks Buck knows, though. He hopes he does. He’ll figure out how to say it to him when he’s awake, he’ll make sure he can never forget it.

His best friend. Whatever else they are or will be, Eddie thinks this first thing will always be true. They’ll always know each other and like each other and want to hang out. With the dubious wisdom of time and age Eddie can admit the few times they’ve fought have mostly been because something had been frustrating one of those wants. Someone should make fun of him for this, probably. Maybe Chris will, Eddie thinks, smiling at the idea that they’re in a place where they can harmlessly tease each other again. “You can’t see Buck for like three days and you go crazy,” he’ll laugh. “I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic teenager here.”

He idly wonders if he really can somehow figure out how to never go more than three days without seeing Buck ever again, and then stifles his own laughter — you’re right, imaginary Chris — because the man is still sleeping — still! — and despite his internal complaining he doesn’t actually want to disturb the guy. He looks so peaceful, passed out hard and melted into his pillow. His pillow, in Eddie’s bed. In Buck’s bed? Who is legally attached to what leases where is a little up in the air at the moment. Maybe it could be their bed. Maybe it's not too soon to say Don’t look for someplace else to live. Just stay here with me, with us. Maybe he just doesn’t care if other people think he’s moving too fast. He doesn’t even think he is, really. The will was years ago. He’s thought more about this relationship, worked harder on it and for longer, than any other in his life. Seven years is long enough to know.

Stay with me, he thinks at Buck, looking at his curls that are flattened in some places and sticking out weird in others. Tonight and every other night we get. He thinks Buck will say yes. He’s pretty certain Buck will say yes. He moved in so Eddie could leave, he’s pretty certain Buck will stay for him, too.

“Do you have a secret kid somewhere I can do something financially irresponsible for to prove my devotion to you?” Eddie asks in a whisper. Buck snorts again, but doesn’t otherwise stir. “Okay. Well, I’ll figure something else out.”

Buck’s eyelashes are pale against his cheek. His skin is rougher than when they first met, older, aging. His birthmark isn't visible, pressed into the pillow, because Buck is turned towards Eddie in his sleep. He’s all stubbly — it had itched against his face, Eddie remembers — and Eddie will kind of miss it when he has to shave before work tomorrow. He can grow it back, though, and Eddie will be around to see it in this new life where they never spend more than three days apart. Two days, maybe. 48 hours in a row and they have to say sorry, gotta go, my-

Husband? My husband is waiting for me? Bobby will probably have a harder time arguing for them to stay on the same shift if they get married, and that will make the whole never-apart-for-long thing harder. So, not yet. Not yet. But Eddie watches Buck’s chest rise and fall and thinks: someday.

He gets so caught up in that thought, the two of them in suits and nice food and pretty lights and dancing and making promises, that he doesn’t register for a moment the blue eyes blinking back at him.

“Oh,” he says, sounding stupidly surprised.

“Hi,” Buck says, the word tripping out on a little huff of laughter. Eddie wants to- to taste it. He stays where he is.

“Good morning.”

Buck smiles, so big it seems to take him a moment to catch his breath. “Morning.” He yawns, stretching out like a cat for all his puppy-like tendencies. “Time is it?”

Eddie doesn’t actually know, having better things to look at than an alarm clock or phone screen, so he rolls slightly to check. “9:15.” When he rolls back Buck is right there, slinging an arm over Eddie all casual like they’ve done this a million times instead of never before, but Eddie thinks he’s right, it doesn’t feel new at all. He grabs a handful of Buck’s shirt and just holds on, feeling his body heat.

“Slept in,” Buck says, and he doesn't seem surprised or not surprised about it either. He leans forward and kisses Eddie’s cheek, quick, quiet. They have time for- for something else, now. Something longer. There’s no rush. But first, Eddie has to make sure, he has to make it clear, he has to ask:

“Will you sleep in tomorrow? Here? And- and every other day, if you want. Forever, Buck, if you want.”

Buck smiles, again so wide it takes a moment for him to speak. “We still gotta get up on work days, Eddie.”

Eddie laughs. It makes his body lean forward under Buck’s arm, closer to him. Their knees bump together. “Well- okay. I can compromise on that. I’m very reasonable. Every other day.”

“Every other day,” Buck agrees, easily, and leans in again for something else, something longer.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Perfect Gift

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, older!reader (50s)

Summary: you remember Bucky's birthday but he wants more than you give him.

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BUCKO.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It's a bit silly. A bit of extra effort feels like a lot. You're almost embarrassed at the thought of it. You should just keep it to yourself. Give it to someone else. You probably won't even see him.��

You stand at the tall lab table, one elbow planted as you hover your pen over the report. There's not much going on that day but it's still special. For him. He must have plans, certainly with someone else. Forget it, do your work.  

No one needs any stitching up so you'll stick with the usual. You still can't figure out what that thick blue sludge is. A venom that sticks to the skin like tar. Despite running it through almost every piece of equipment available to you, it remains mysterious and it wouldn't be too unusual to find it isn't an earthly substance. 

Sigh. The icing's going to melt. You're stupid. And too old to be. 

You cringe behind your hand as you lean your forehead into your palm. The door slides open from the other side and you sit up, the stool wobbling beneath you dangerously. You latch onto the table and steady the feet. 

Oh, it's him. Shoot. Despite the work you put into the surprise, you suddenly wish he'd stayed away. That he kept to his actual friends. 

"Hey," Bucky marches up to the end of the table. "You figure out that gas?" 

"Gas... er, oh yes," you perk up. Work is easy to talk about. It's what you know. They only thing you've ever known. "I'm surprised it didn't knock you out. You brought me an empty canister." 

"Serum," he shrugs, his vibranium arm flexing as if reminding you of who he is. How can you forget that? 

"Right, uh, about that--" 

"No more needles, doc. I heard you got enough samples from Hydra," he crosses his arms. Despite his warning, humour dimples in his cheek. 

"No, I wasn't..." you shake your head. "I was just thinking you could do eight hours on a treadmill while I monitor your levels." 

"You are insane," he scoffs and unfolds his arms. He rounds the table, dragging his metal fingertips over it. 

"Anyway, er, about that gas," you hop off the stool before he can reach you. "It's designed to inhibit neural processing. I mean, the immediate effects are typical. Unconsciousness but after that, it sticks around." You look at him and squint, "how are you feeling?" 

"As good as I ever do," he levels his hand and wiggles it, "middling." 

"Right," you exhale and tap your toe nervously. "Even... on your birthday?" 

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and his eyes list away, "you remembered?" 

"I have a thing for dates." You say. 

"A historian and a doctor, wow," he utters. 

You look away, "sorry... if I overstepped. I know some people like that to keep that stuff private. You know, small celebrations." 

"Well, I haven't celebrated since 1941, so... yeah, not on the top of my list." 

His words hang in the air. Your heart races and he sighs. He slowly nears. 

"But..." he drags out the last consonant, "you did something." 

"Bucky..." 

"I can hear your heart. No use pretending. Oh, shit, please don't say it's a surprise party. I knew Sam was up to something," he growls. 

You laugh. It's nice of him to think you'd be included. You shake your head and back up. 

"It's... just from me. Nothing big," you go to your locker and reach into the cooler bag. "I hope you have a sweet tooth--" 

You turn back and find him right in front of you. You flinch. You gasp in surprise. He's fast. And silent. 

"It's er," you look past him, at where he just was, on the other side of the table, "a cupcake. Strawberry swirl with a shortcake crumple on top and cream cheese icing," you cradle the container daintily. 

"Wow, you did that? For me?" 

"I mean, it's a hobby. I always end up giving cookies out to the neighborhood kids," you shrug. "Really, it's small. Nothing big." 

His blue eyes focus on the clear top of the container. He blinks. His jaw tenses and his dimples deepen, the cleft in his chin tautens. You nearly wilt at the heat roiling from him; or that's just you and your stupid self. 

"I... thanks," he reaches to take it, his fingers brushing yours. "That's..." he exhales. "That's nice of you. It's... incredible." He turns it and examines your delicate work. "The last birthday cake I had didn't even have eggs." He looks you in the eye, "rationing." 

"Oh, right," you heave. You forget he's technically older than you. That serum has surely helped. "Well, I hope you enjoy it." 

"I'm sure I will. It's almost a shame to eat it. It's so nice," he says. "At least, it would be a shame to eat it al--" 

"There you are!" A voice calls from the doorway. "Did you forget?" 

You look over at Nat as she puts her hand on her perfectly curved hip. Even in street clothes, you can tell she has an hourglass figure. And she's stunning with her bold red hair and porcelain complexion. 

"I didn't forget," he rebuffs and sends you a goofy smile. "Girlfriends." 

"Ha, right," you sidle away awkwardly and go back to the lab table. He crosses to Nat as she stands by the door. 

"Whatever," she drawls. "Oh, what's that?" 

"Cake. My cake," he insists and holds the container out of her grasp. 

You peek up as he raises his hand and meet Nat's eyes. You blanch. She tilts her head slightly. You offer a weak smile. 

"Just see if you can keep it from me," she returns her attention to him with a snarl. "I mean, we were planning on wrestling anyway." 

She grabs the front of his tee shirt and pulls him to her. She stands on her toes and pushes her lips to his as he angles down to meet her. You quickly look at the forgotten report and search for your notes.  

Ugh, you are so lame. You really thought you'd outgrown crushes. Well, time heals everything, doesn't it? That man is all the proof you need of that. 

🧁

You look at the clock and sigh. You did it again. Time is your nemesis, always eluding you. You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn. If you head out now, you might actually get some sleep.  

You open your locker and slide the tablet into your burgundy leather bag. You wish you were as sophisticated as you seemed. From the outside, you have a degree, several, you splurge on labels, you always have good food...  

But you don't do anything. You don't go out with friends. You don't have friends. You have acquaintances.  

A subtle swish prickles your hackles. You peer over as the lab door opens. You fumble your bag at the figure there.  

Bucky cradles his face as he looks around with his uncovered eye. He winces as he sees you and enters, "thank god you're here, doc, think I need stitches."  

"Stitches?" You grimace and put your bag back on the shelf. "How on earth--"  

You hurry over to him as he chuckles, "yeah, I know. I always gotta ruin things."  

You tut and wave him over to the table. You open a drawer and take out a sanitizing wipe. "Let me see."  

He lowers his hand. His eye socket is already discoloured and there's a gash in his brow. Your eyes round.  

"What happened?" You reach to dab away the blood gently.  

He groans, "well, you know, Russians and their vodka."  

You look him in the eye curiously. You continue to wipe away the blood. You try not to ogle him. How many times have you patched him up? Don't be a fool.

"Natasha?" You wonder.  

"Mhm. Well, I mean, she gets rough just typically... in a different context," he laughs again and the insinuation makes you twitch.  "We were arguing..."  

"Arguing," you echo as you toss the wipe and examine the cut. "No stitches. I can glue it shut."  

"Right," he nods, leaning in to give you a better angle. "Anyway, we were kidding around and it got a bit serious. She gets jealous easy, ya know?"  

You uncap the bottle and place a hand gentle on his head, framing his brow. You're as careful as you can be. He hardly seems bothered. You apply the glue precisely.  

"Jealous?" You prompt.  

"Ha, yeah, funny thing," he clucks. "She's jealous of you."  

"Me?" You put the glue away and snort. You busy yourself as you tuck the kit away then go to wash your hands. You feel him watching.  

"That cake you made me. I might have been drooling over it," he says. "You're a hell of a baker. You got a degree in that too?"  

You roll your eyes then face him, once more startled to find him close. You steady yourself as you lean on the table behind you.  

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," you murmur, clearing your throat as it clenches. "You know, it's not my place but she did some nasty work on you."  

"Yeah, she did," he touches his brow and winces. "But you got me, doc. Like always."  

"Yep, well, you're all good, so..."  

You realise how close he is. It would be hard to slip by without brushing him. You freeze and stare at him, confused.  

"I think you forgot something," he says.  

Your brows knit and your lips downturn, "I did?"  

"Yeah," he runs his knuckles up your arm, "aren't you going to kiss it better?"  

You blink. Then you guffaw. Then you feel horribly dumb.  

"Don't be silly," you catch his hand as it crawls along your shoulder.  

He doesn't stop. He flicks your fingers away and tickles your neck. You gulp and lean away.  

"Not being silly," he grabs your chin, his grip firm. "I'm serious. I think it would help," he grins.  

"I don't... alright. I think it's late and I--"  

"Those lips have gotta be just as tender as those hands," he stretches his thumb up to touch your lips. You shiver.   

"Bucky," you say appeasingly. You have to be asleep at the table, dreaming again.  

"You think I can't hear your heart hitch every time I walk in? Hm?" He steps closer to loom over you, "think I can't smell it in your sweat? That I can't smell you getting wet--"  

"Stop! Stop, please," you try to pull away from his hand. "Bucky, that's... please."  

"A little kiss," he growls. "Just here."  

He lets you go and traces the cut. You quiver, blood surging, skin alight. You slowly hover closer and press your lips to his brow. He hums.  

He pulls away. He's too quick for you to elude. You have to no time to react as he takes you off your feet. 

His hands are on your hips. You wriggle. You’re overly conscious of the extra cushion there as his fingers curl into it. You yelp. 

“Please, Bucky,” you push on his hands.  

“I know you want me,” he snarls as he slides his fingers under your ass, groping you as he pushes between your knees. 

“Bucky, it’s just--” 

“It’s just...” he interjects as he leans in until his nose touches yours, “my birthday and I know exactly what I want.” 

[malum-forev]

Taste

FratBoy!Bucky x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Chaos ensues as Bucky brings over his new girlfriend, the one who can’t seem to forget you and Bucky were together. Inspired by Taste by Sabrina Carpenter.

You couldn’t help it. Ever since you were younger, you left quite an impression on everybody you’d meet.

Bubbly, charming, beautiful, captivating, were always synonymous with you.

It’s not like you wanted it to be that way, but things always seemed to end up like that.

Boys wanted to be with you, and girls wanted to be you. And in this case, Bucky’s new girlfriend wanted to kill you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You mutter to Natasha and Wanda as Bucky walks into the bar with his new girlfriend on his arm.

The two of you had a very amicable break up, you wanted to focus on your studies and Bucky wanted to focus on fucking everything with a pulse. But you didn’t expect anything less from him, he was a fuck boy frat boy when you met him and he hadn’t changed when you broke up with him.

Nevertheless, the two of you were actually friends now. Once or twice you’d even joked that maybe you only wanted to break the ice with sex, not have a relationship.

But his new girlfriend doesn’t seem to understand that.

Everything you did, she despised. And everything you didn’t do, was somehow worse! She hated the mere idea of you being Bucky’s girlfriend at one point. So, you decided to lay low, only going out when you knew Bucky wasn’t bringing her over, and him only inviting her when he knew you wouldn’t be in the picture.

“He promised she wasn’t coming.” Wanda rubs her temples.

“Act like we’re cool with it.” Steve coughs into his fist, plastering on a smile as his best friend comes closer.

“Hey everyone!” Bucky lets out a tight smile, nudging his girlfriend to do the same but she keeps her eyes on her phone.

You try not to laugh, knowing that Bucky absolutely loathes when people are glued to their phone. Something about feeling like they’re frozen in time once their eyes only pay attention to the screen. You’d always tell him he was definitely an old soul.

“Aren’t you freezing, it’s below zero out there!” Sam laughs, punching Bucky’s shoulder lightly.

“I wanted to wear my team jacket but it seems I’ve misplaced it.” His blue eyes bounce around the room but never look to you.

“Half of his clothes have gone missing.” His girlfriend rolls his eyes.

“Hey!” Nat speaks up, a devious smile on her lips. “Don’t we have it? I think I saw it in one of our closets.”

Your eyes immediately drop down, knowing exactly where he left his jacket. You can sill remember the sound of the zipper as he took it off last time you were together.

Steve shoots his girlfriend a glare but she doesn’t stop.

“I’m pretty sure it’s in your closet.” Natasha lets out a full blown smile.

“Y-yeah, you left it last party-“

“Oh I must have left it in Steve’s car and he thought it was his-“

Bucky and you speak at the same time, the misalignment of your stories saying more than words.

Bucky’s girlfriend scoffs, turning around on her heel and marching away from the group.

“Thanks a lot.” Bucky huffs at you.

You throw your arms up. “I wasn’t even-“

He was trailing after the girlfriend before you could finish your sentence.

“What was that for!” You roll your eyes at your redhead best friend.

“I’m so over this chick!” Natasha says. “She’s so clearly jealous of you, and no one is man enough to tell Bucky to cut her out!”

“Hey! Don’t look at me!” Sam crosses his arms. “I tried to tell him that she was bad news the second she started wearing the same clothes as (Y/N).”

“I don’t want anyone to cut anybody out!” You stand in the middle of the group. “Can we just try to be civil?”

“She’s the one who’s driving us apart!” Natasha lets out, earning a nudge from Steve.

“What!”

“I told you that as a secret!” He hisses.

Your eyebrows knit together. “What secret?”

“I-“ Steve hesitates. “I heard she’s telling everyone who wants to hear that Bucky only pitty fucked you.”

Your breath catches.

“Oh hell no!” Wanda springs up from her seat.

“I tried to dismantle the rumor before you found out but she’s told everyone,” Natasha looks down at the floor.

Throwing petty comments here and there you could deal with but this, spreading blatant lies, this was too much.

You throw back the rest of your drink. Any niceness flying out the window. “No one stop me.”

You stalk over to where Bucky was trying to console her. Making her roll her eyes the second she sees you.

“I heard you’ve been saying some things about me,” you let out a dry laugh. “If you think you have the right to be “honest” I’ll be honest too.”

Her eyes widen double their size and Bucky takes a step back, shocked at your words.

“Don’t you love it when he goes down on you? Bucky is a master with words, but he’s a wizard with his tongue, isn’t that right?” The girlfriend swallows a gasp. Confusion written all over her face.

“Oh sweetheart,” your voice drips with faux concern. “Has he never gone down on you? I should have known, Buck doesn’t do that for just anyone.”

You take a step closer to her. “I know you’re picturing forever, and if you are just remember, whenever his lips are on yours, you’ll taste me too.”

“Bucky!” She shrieks. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Bucky’s blue eyes, thunderous from confusion, bounce between you two. “What did you say about her?”

“N-nothing!” She stutters.

“I can assure you,” you look her up and down. “What happened between Bucky and I was the furthest thing from a pity fuck.”

“Bucky! Do something!” She yells.

His chest heaves with anger. “Don’t you ever say that about (Y/N)! Ever again!” He barks.

“Are you serious?” She gasps.

“Deathly serious.” Bucky grits out, dropping his hands from hers. “In fact, I could never be with someone who treats (Y/N) like that. We’re done.”

“You can’t be serious.” Her jaw slacks. “You have nothing else to say?”

“Actually, I do.” Bucky steps closer to you. “Don’t ever come near her ever again.”

Author’s Note: hihiii this is a tiny oneshot I couldn’t get out of my head! Hope you like it! Plssss remember to check out my original story All For The Crown on my page. Thanks byeeee love yaaaa.

[liketolaugh-writes]

u/riddlemetofoff

That didn't answer my question at all. So if they did all that... why are YOU the villain here???

u/GhostNebula OP

Um. Because legally speaking I don't have rights, and the government is actively hunting me? And sometimes I raid their base when they catch another person like me? Raiding government bases seems pretty villainous. And I break a lot of their stuff to make their jobs harder, and sometimes I get my friend to hack in and destroy a bunch of data.

u/riddlemetofoff

Okay, I think I actually get the misunderstanding here. Fellas, is it villainous to actively fight it when the government puts an eradication order on your species?

u/cryostasis

Absolutely not.

u/bobthegoon

Depends on how you're defining 'villain,' I suppose? But in this case it honestly sounds like something Batman would do. Not to take away your right to self-identify as a villain (along with all the other rights you apparently don't have) that's just my thoughts.

u/totallynotredrobin

Poison Ivy is a villain and she fights for the environment though. So I suppose it depends on how much collateral you leave? I don't know, this whole thing seems kind of fishy to me.

u/GhostNebula OP

I'm gonna be real with you guys, this is literally the first time I've heard that from anyone but my sister and my friends and I might be crying.

u/cryostasis

Hey OP, are you interested in relocating?

u/GhostNebula OP

I'm fourteen, I don't have a lot of say over where I live.

u/riddlemetofoff

I forgot you were fourteen. This conversation is increasingly surreal. I feel like I'm watching a Shakespearian tragedy or something.

u/bobthegoon

Waitwaitwait. You're fourteen, and your parents aren't on the list of people who've told you you're not a villain?

u/GhostNebula OP

Yeah I don't really want to elaborate on that whole situation right now, or ever. Sorry.

u/villainoftheyear

Okay but if you're half of this species, one of your parents must be completely this species, right? That's usually how this works?

u/GhostNebula OP

That is usually how this works but not for me, sorry. I'm more of a... physics issue, I guess? It's complicated.

u/totallynotredrobin

So I've been combing through recent legislation to figure out what the fuck is going on and uh. OP. Are you a fucking ghost?

u/GhostNebula OP

I'm not answering that.

u/cryostasis

You don't really need to, Reddit User GhostNebula.

u/villainoftheyear

Hey, link that legislation so the rest of us can also know what the fuck is going on.

Inspired by this great prompt and goes the other way.

Of which Danny goes to Reddit as Phantom.

Now, I dunno much about Reddit due to my country's default system is to ban the site (except if you use VPN or Apple products apparently?), but anyways.

One reckon that r/evilmonologue exists.

Danny-as-Phantom is certainly asking that if he's a bad villain (Am I a Bad Villain aka AIBV) since his "Heroes" (Red Huntress, Fenton couple, and GIW) doesn't allow him to do Evil Monologues at all, when even the weakest "Villain" would even has his "Beware Box" gimmick (tho he certainly wouldn't do anything so cringe).

Ofc it comes from: Yes, GhostNebula is a bad villain to: this kid is handed out such a bad life that he really mistakes "heroes" and "villains" of all things. You sure that the guys in white and ghost hunters are good guys?? to: Flash, get your villain. I think he'll be safer with you since he also got no body count, so surely he was a Flash rogue?

And ofc the heroes of JL (or others) will investigate for some reason or another.

[miriunknown]

Secrets and Stolen kisses💛

George Weasley x Mean!Hufflepuff!Reader

Summary: George is finally in a secret relationship with the meanest Hufflepuff in school after having a crush on her since his second year, rumors fly around about them before it all comes to a head.

Divider credits: @bernardsbendystraws

George was sweet, even if he could be a troublemaker he was never outwardly mean to anyone for no reason. Always being polite, holding doors open for people, picking up people's things if they dropped them, his mother did raise a gentleman after all.

So when the sweeter twin was found hanging around the meanest girl in the school people starting talking "Why is he hanging out with her? She's so rude." "It's weird right? He's usually so nice why would he be around her?" People couldn't wrap their head around it.

George had been infatuated with her since his second year, he found her interesting; one of the meanest girls in school in the nicest house in hogwarts, it was odd to say the least. Even though he desperately wanted to he never talked to her because of how standoffish she was towards people that weren't her friends. He knew how mean she could be towards people, yet he still felt drawn to her.

People didn't like her that much, she was quite rude, she made it known if she didn't like you, she was quick to insult you if you did something she didn't like, she was just mean and standoffish, most people didn't like her. She had a short list of people who actually did like her; her two friends; a couple of Ravenclaw girls named Anna and Rosie, and then of course George was on that list too.

He was nervous wreck around her, anytime he'd try to talk to her he'd chicken out last second. He finally got to talk to her for the first time in the last three years. He saw her in the corner of the Potions classroom, by herself assumingly because her friends were in Ravenclaw and they had classes with Slytherin this year. He took a chance and took the spot next to her.

She looked at him a puzzled expression on her face, as he took the spot next to her he just smiled at her not able to muster up the courage to actually talk to her yet. They sat there in silence until class started then he was able to calm down and talk to her, "I'm George by the way." He stammered out, she didn't even look up from the cauldron, "I know. I'm Y/n." She said keeping her response short as she stirred her cauldron, George just stared at her in awe, he kept looking at her not paying attention to the assignment. While pouring the ingredients in his cauldron and he accidentally added to much powdered moonstone,

The cauldron exploded, leaving his hair blown back and his face covered with soot, he was embarrassed then he heard laughing coming from beside him, Y/n was laughing like a maniac, she started clutching her sides almost falling onto the floor from laughter. The sound of her laughter drowning out the lecture he was getting from Snape.

From across the room, Fred and Lee saw this unfold, they felt bad for George, thinking about how embarrassed he must be until a giant grin plastered itself on his face and laughed with her. "oh godric, he's stupid for her." Lee mumbled to Fred as he sighed, focusing back on his cauldron.

After that George was seen with her all over, he'd go sit at the Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw table where she sat with her friends and talked to her for a bit before going back to his own table earning odd looks from his housemates, he'd stop her in the halls to talk to her, he'd sit next to her in every class they had.

He was in love. Rumors started, some cruel other just plain stupid. "I heard she put a love spell on him, I bet that's why he's around her so much now." "Well I heard that she's part siren and part vampire and she's using her siren powers to lure in her next victim which is him." Most of them were very stupid.

This bothered George, he didn't want people thinking about her in such a bad light. It didn't seem to bother her however, no one was going to say it to her face nor would someone try to make fun of her for it so she didn't care.

They started seeing each other, though it was in secret. They'd rather have their relationship out of the public eye, George liked it this way because no one else saw her the way he did when they were alone. She was more gentle, sweeter even. He liked it, though he didn't mind her being mean to him. She talked to him differently when alone, her tone was always mellifluous, she spoke softer, she always told him how much she loved him. He just melted when he was with her.

She was fine with keeping the relationship a secret because she didn't want to affect his reputation, plus she liked the sneaking around seeing him completely in love with her made her heart flutter especially knowing no one else saw him like that, he was putty in her hands and she loved it. She tried not being mean to him in private— even though some rude remarks slipped through she still tried her damnedest to be nice to him.

People started noticing how they would sometimes walk together alone, their hands would brush against one another, sometimes their hands would wind up intertwined with one anothers, some students swore they saw them making out in the library once. George was constantly bombarded with questions about her, asking if they were actually a thing or not. He never knew how to respond so he usually just shrugged before walking off.

Y/n however wasn't asked anything, people didn't know how to approach her. She had a mean face, her body language always seemed rather aggressive. So they just asked George instead thinking he'd be more inclined to answer.

The relationship wasn't going to go public for a while, they liked the secret they had. But that changed pretty abruptly.

It was a usual day in the great hall, it was the weekend so no classes. People were scattered about doing homework, reading, playing wizards chess and other games. You were sitting at the Hufflepuff table your friends sitting across from you, you were just talking when you looked behind your friends head towards the Gryffindor table,

You saw George, he was sandwiched between Fred and a girl you didn't know. She was obviously flirting with George, her lashes fluttered as she spoke to him, she twirled her hair between her fingers while puffing out her chest a bit. You could feel a look of disgust come across your face causing your friends to turn, "oh. Looks like someone's making a move on your man." Anna, said turning back to you kinda smirking at your obvious jealousy.

You scoffed looking away, "I don't know what you're talking about." You spat earning a laugh from both girls, "So you're not gonna do something about that? It's obvious she's into him." Rosie said motioning towards the girl sitting next to your boyfriend. Your eyes landed on the two seeing the girl place a hand on his chest, "oh wow she's bold. You should turn her into a toad." Rosie said clearly instigating, you quickly stood up making your way towards them, you could hear Anna and Rosie laughing behind you.

You approached George, his eyes widened as he saw you before he smiled. "Hey George can you come with me real quick." You said grabbing his arm attempting to lead him away, the other girl quickly latched on to his other arm pulling him back, "excuse you. We were talking, who are you to him anyway?" The girl spat surprisingly, annoyed at the interruption.

George looked at his girlfriend as her face turned sour at the girls audacity. "Who am I? I'm his fucking girlfriend. Who the fuck are you?" The words spilled out like word vomit, you didn't even think before saying them. The table fell silent at your words, George's face lit up as his cheeks turned pink. Your cheeks turned red as George wiggled his arm away from the other girls grip, allowing you to pull him up from his seat leading him out of the hall.

Once you were out of the room, he started laughing. You just stood there face hot from embarrassment at what you just said. "Wow, I didn't think that's how people would find out we were really dating." He said laughing to himself a bit, you slapped his shoulder "well that wouldn't have happened if you stopped that girl from hitting on you." You turned away from him, rubbing your hands on your face.

You feel his arms snake around your waist as he leans his head on your shoulder, "don't worry love, I only have eyes for you." He said kissing your cheek. You smile at him, still feeling a bit jealous, but you knew he meant it. He spun you around planting a soft kiss on your lips, "well atleast you don't have to worry about girls hitting on me now." He said with a smirk, you laughed at his remark before pulling him into a hug.

"you're so stupid." You mutter against him, "yeah but you love it." He whispered, kissing the top of your head.

[ldydeath]

Feels Like I’ll Die Without You | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: You run into your ex at a party. Neither of you are over each other, despite you being in a relationship with someone else. Will temptation get the best of you? Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, make out scene.  Word Count: 1.3k Author's Note: this is kind of a part two to I Used to Believe In You. You don’t really need to read it to understand this installment but if you want the background on why they broke up, you can read it here. Considering turning this into a series, let me know if you want a third part of this! 

It has been years since you’d been back in Korea. You didn’t even want to think about how long it had been or the way your last trip had ended. Something you’d thought would last a lifetime had come crumbling down in seconds. Looking back over the last twelve years you were glad it had ended. As much as you’d love Jiyong as a young twenty something in the industry it wasn’t meant to be. 

You hated how your brain instantly went to him the second your feet touched solid ground after your flight. You had a boyfriend and it has been twelve years since you’d seen Jiyong in person. Sure, he’d pop up on tv from time to time or social media but you hadn’t thought of him, talked to him, seen him since he’d flown to your house after you’d broken up all those years ago. 

For whatever reason, you were being forced to go to an event that you knew he’d be at, because of course he would be. Luxury, fashion, expensive things were his thing now. Long gone was the blonde edgy boy you’d met when you were first starting out. Now he was softer, more into fashion than you’d ever remembered him being. But your relationship had never really been that deep and for all you knew this was who he’d been from the start. 

“No shit.” You heard a familiar voice and turned, coming face to face with Youngbae and grinned. 

“Hi YB.” You pulled him into a hug, instant relief washing over you. 

An unfortunate circumstance of your fall out with Jiyong was the no contact you’d had with his three best friends post breakup. They’d been your friends too but as his closest friends and bandmates it was just easier for you to fade out of their lives.   

“You look great. How have you been?” 

“Good. Stable. I heard you got married and have a kid. That’s so exciting, I’m so happy for you!” 

“Thanks! I gotta admit I always thought you and Jiyong would be first to get married.” 

“Yeah, well…that didn’t happen.” The all too familiar voice of Jiyong rang out and you swallowed, your smile faltering. “Hello.” 

You turned from the safety of Youngbae, coming face to face with Jiyong. He was still just as handsome as ever and damn it if your heart didn’t speed up at the site of him. He looked handsome, his suiting fitting his body like a glove. The hat was a little goofy but damn it if he didn’t rock it. 

“Hi.” You squeaked out. Cursing yourself in your head. Jiyong smirked before raising a brow at Youngbae. 

“Excuse us for a minute?” Youngbae waved goodbye to you before walking away. “You look….amazing.” 

That was not what he wanted to say. You looked hot, but he wasn’t going to come straight out and say how down bad he still was for you. How no woman he’d been with since you could ever compare to you. You’d have all the power and he couldn’t have that. 

“Thanks. So do you.” You could feel the awkward tension rising in the room. 

“You wanna grab a drink and talk?” The way he said talk made your weak. That used to be code for doing anything but talking. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You blurted out and Jiyong closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. 

Of course you had a boyfriend. He should’ve known you wouldn’t stay single. You were one of the most talented and amazing people he’d ever met, you wouldn’t have just stayed single the last twelve years. 

“Ok? So a drink and we actually just talk.” You knew you shouldn’t, everything in your body telling you not to go with him. 

Deciding to ignore the warnings, you nodded your head and followed him. His hand reached out to grab yours and you knew you should pull away. Instead you linked your fingers with his and allowed him to lead you away from the crowd. He grabbed two drinks off a tray, handing you one so he wouldn’t have to let you go and led you outside. 

There was nobody out here, thanks to the chilly Korean night. You took a sip of your drink, your hand staying firmly in Jiyong’s hand. He looked down at your entwined fingers and smirked again before giving your hand a squeeze. He wasn’t going to let go first. Neither were you. Why was it so easy to fall into these old habits with him? 

Jiyong let go of your hand, moving to stand directly in front of you, his drink abandoned. Your heart sped up and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach at the closeness. You looked up, locking eyes with him and he moved his free hand to cup your cheek. You should back out of his touch, run inside, find security with the other attendees. He wouldn’t touch you like this in front of people. Instead, you leaned into his touch and there was that damn smirk again. 

“What?” 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” His eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips as he spoke.

You didn’t even question it, your body reacting to him whether you liked it or not and his lips were on yours. It was too much, too much passion, too wrong but you couldn’t help yourself when it came to Jiyong. You would probably always want him and that was why you’d stayed away for as long as you had. He wasn’t good for you, this wasn’t good for you. 

“Jiyong.” You panted, pulling away from him. “I can’t. I have a boyfriend.”  Jiyong shrugged at your words, leaning in closer to you. 

“He doesn’t have to know.” His lips covering yours again. 

It was almost too easy, getting lost in this moment with him. Hands roaming each other's bodies as the kiss took a desperate turn. His jacket was off, tie untied as he lifted you up on the table, your legs opening slightly so he could stand between them, your legs wrapping around him. His hands roaming up your legs as he broke the kiss. His lips latched onto your neck as he trailed kisses down your throat, your chest. Your eyes popped open as if coming to your senses as his lips brushed your breast. 

“Jiyong, I can’t.” You pushed him away slightly, jumping down off the table and smoothing out your dress.  “I’m not this person anymore.” 

Jiyong took a respectable step back and straightened his tie before sliding his jacket back on. As much as he still wanted you, he wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want to do. If that meant he had to wait another twelve years for a stolen moment with you, fine. 

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.” 

“It’s fine. I did too.” You let out a sigh. You could’ve walked away at any moment, this wasn’t all on Jiyong. “I think I should go though.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I have to go present this watch anyway.” He took his hat off running his hand through his messy green hair and offered you a weak smile. “It was really good to see you.” 

“You too.” You nodded before walking away. 

Jiyong stood there, watching you walk away and swallowed the lump on his throat. He’d watched you walk away from him too many times in his life and somehow this one hurt the most. He wasn’t the same cocky asshole you’d met all those years ago but of course he hadn’t shown you any proof of that. The second he’d seen you all logical thoughts had gone right out the window. 

It hurt all the same though, having you reject him all over again. At this rate he figured he’d never be over you. It had been twelve years and he folded the second he’d seen you. Maybe one day he’d convince you that you were meant to be. But for now he’d just have to find a way to be ok with this moment. He smoothed his suit out one last time before heading inside, making sure to avoid you the rest of the evening.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren @tulentiy

[ascendedice]

what shifting (and manifesting) actually is. (longer post)

hi, you've probably heard that "shifting is so easy" 10000 times but you never got why. in this post, I'll explain what shifting really is and why most people struggle with it. if you start denying that and being like "NO!!! YOU HAVE TO PUT EFFORT!!!" or something like that, you have no idea what shifting is and you should stop limiting yourself. I - shifting explained. recently, I asked one of my friends who shifts more frequently than me to go to a place where he can get "knowledge" about how shifting works and get it explained in a very good way. he did that, and he came back with the following single sentence: "Shifting is all about matching your energy, when you align yourself with your "desire" and accept you already have it, reality just snaps and you become aware of whatever you want." I spent a LOT of time doing readings, asking my deities and more regarding this sentence and now I'll break it down to you! II - what is matching your energy, really? this is where loassumption basics come in - "acting as if". matching your energy with something is all about emotions, and accepting whatever is yours is there and you already have it. this is why most shifting "methods" require you to use your emotions or affirm that you're already in your DR, every single shifting or manifesting method leaves to one single thing - acting as if you already have the thing you desire. III - why people struggle with shifting. one single thing - overcomplication. whether you turn shifting into some big process where you have to do 1000 things to shift or you put weird limiting beliefs on yourself like "you can't do X", etc. it's all just overcomplicating it. shifting is not about “effort” in the way most people think of it. it’s about letting go and allowing. said effort should be put in fixing your mindset (which isn't needed but would help a lot), taking breaks, making shifting a healthy thing. IV - importance of letting go. if you're trying to force a shift (for example, trying to make yourself shift instead of just act as if you have your things) you imply LACK. if you keep trying to visualize yourself floating and magically teleporting to your desired reality and affirming "i am shifting i am shifting i am shifting!" you just imply to yourself that you aren't in your DR and create an useless resistance. this is why people who “give up” or stop trying often end up shifting. it’s not because they stopped wanting it, but because they stopped resisting it. they let go of the need to control the process and simply allowed it to happen.

V - how to "actually" shift.

so, how do you actually shift? it’s simple: align yourself with your desired reality. this means matching your energy, your emotions, and your assumptions with the reality you want to experience. here’s how you can do that:

assume you’re already there. this is the most important step. stop thinking of shifting as something you need to achieve and start thinking of it as something you’ve already done. assume that you’re already in your DR and act as if it’s true.

let go of the how. stop worrying about the process or how it’s going to happen. trust that it will happen and focus on how it feels to be in your DR.

stop looking for signs and symptoms. signs are just a reflection of your current reality, not your desired one. if you keep looking for signs, you’re just reinforcing the idea that you’re not in your DR yet. symptoms are just your body falling asleep, ignore them since they have nothing to do with shifting. they do not matter.

focus on the feeling. emotions are the key to shifting. focus on how it feels to be in your DR and let that feeling guide you. the more you can embody that feeling, the easier it will be to shift.

trust the process. shifting is not about forcing or controlling. it’s about allowing and trusting. trust that your DR is already yours and let go of the need to make it happen.

that's all you need. you can apply these steps to any "method" or anything you want really, whatever feels the best for you. VI - final thoughts shifting is about conviction, not effort. just stop "trying" and let go. thinking as if you're your "DR self" and embodying that is enough and all you need.

[twinpancake236]

Fellow Horrortale fan here!!

Aliza would probably freak out, be confused, but after that, she’d probably either:

Relax, seeing as she has heard stories about Sans being a friendly skeleton that loves making puns before the famine began, and how he had tried to keep the hopes of the people of Underground up when the CORE broke down from multiple different monsters on one or two different occasions if I remember correctly. In other words, Aliza would probably trust OG Sans more easily because she has heard good things about him

Or.

She’d freak out, and not trust Sans at all because why the fuck should she? that man tore her fucking arm off. But then again, Aliza is an interesting specimen, seeing as while Horrortale Sans is giving her a 15 second head start to run away from him as far as she can, while he is preparing himself to hunt her down and kill her, instead of running she offers Sans the ketchup she got from someone.

Like actually- does this girl not have survival instincts or something? Or is she just too nice of a person? Either way, that kindness is going to and has gotten herself killed on numerous occasions and now that Flowey isn’t there at the end of Waterfall to help Aliza to reset, save, and load when she dies, i’m curious as to what will happen next :D

Also-

Sans definitely looks like he’s freaking out in the drawing though. I’d be too, if i were him. Seeing a human shaking in fear, covered in blood, without an arm, one that definitely looks like it was lost due to an injury. With a Flowey version vibing on her shoulder with ONE FUCKING EYE.

I would definitely be confused as hell and freaking out. But then again, this is OG Sans we’re talking about. So he might question Aliza a bit at first, but other than that, i don’t think he would express that much distaste towards her like how HorrorTale Sans did.

Thank you for listening—— sorry for yapping so much!!!

Do you ever wonder what would happen if Aliza met a sans that wasn’t hers…? After everything?

Big horrortale fan here. Hello.

I drew aliza’s dress inaccurately but to be fair i did not want to draw poofy sleeves, so yeah

Tried to make her design as lore accurate as possible (due to all the certain events she goes through in the comic)

[kiwiikimi]

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ, 𝜗𝜚 ➜ ྀི new mail(!) — author says it’s crazy TikTok based oneshot time!! These are several scenarios in one!! Modern au! Not proofread

—- ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ, 𝜗𝜚 ᯓ (ʚɞ) Damian Wayne x fem reader. Usual trigger warnings.

૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა AUTHORS POV + 2nd ◟ ྀི

0.1 Doing cute random TikTok trends

0.1 Damian was never interested in taking upon the interests of TikTok. However him being the youngest Wayne he was the only one who had TikTok, and the only one who had such an active girlfriend that being you of course. He never used it often yet if he did all his videos were with you. One of his videos being him voicing over you doing your makeup, you insisted he posted it on his main since he had a bunch of fans.

“Today my girlfriend suggested I voiceover her makeup.” Since you two had decided that it would be better if he just stands to the side and lightly voices over you both did it. He had a chair to the side and had a mic and you occasionally said a few words. Most people had asked for a makeup tutorial so you knew if your boyfriend could say it, it would save you time on speaking and thinking.

“Before we start this I had to do a lot for him to agree, a lot. Please don’t let me regret this.” You then gave the mic back to him and then started to apply the makeup whilst he says things. “I think her bare face is better because it’s good for kissing although that could’ve just been my own belief.” He then held your hand, he usually never shows pda on camera but it’s been a while since you have due to you both having school and life.

“Such a softie, I love him.” Since you didn’t have a mic you gently whispered to yourself, you knew nobody could hear it so you thought it would be nice to remind yourself of how sweet he really is. As you continued with your routine you then ended it and posted it. “Thank you Damie for doing this.” You then kissed his cheek, he always had a flutter in his stomach even if you’ve been dating each other for years.

— comments

@.user333 : they are so cute I need ship edits

@.2883 : I love their chemistry I’ve never seen Damian be this chalant 😻‼️‼️

@.Wendy’s : ugh my favorite couple I swear😭

0.2 You saw that leprechaun month was here, it wasn’t as romantic compared to the actual month of love but you thought it would be nice at least. Setting up your phone camera hitting record you weren’t doing bunch but just talking to him. “Damie, why haven’t you asked me to be your leprechaun? I thought you were my boyfriend..” his face completely dropped when he heard what you said. Not even in a shocked way more in just like a ‘why would you ever say that’ kind of way. “Habibti, now why the fuck, I say this in the most polite way Habibti, that you explain why I make you my leprechaun.”

“Because you love and care for me.” As almost kind of like a sharped eye cat his eyes go wide. He mumbles something incoherent in Arabic but it didn’t matter anyways. “I love you but that doesn’t mean I’m making you my leprechaun, you’re already tiny compared to me.” As you looked to the camera your face was shocked and you ended the video and posted it. Even though in the video nobody could see Damian you could tell you were gagged.

—comments

@.useridk : crazy lowkey how she got gagged trying to have a cute moment. 🙁

@.Burgerking : love you these are my parents fr ‼️‼️‼️

0.3 You hadn’t been filming TikTok’s with Damian in a while and this was the first time he suggested to make a TikTok with him. He told you to just go with the flow and let him take over, saying you’ve probably already heard of the audio. Ironically that became his most viewed TikTok. As the audio was playing he had span you around, being careful not to drop you. He then immediately picked you up as the lyrics had said “my feet are off the ground.” You had dangled your feet a bit to match the lyrics. He then held your hands his eyes only filled with love deep inside. “Habibti don’t get too excited, it’s once a while I’ll film with you.” You nodded your head he wouldn’t admit it but it was nice filming TikTok’s with you.

— comments

@.user11 : first time Damian has posted in months

@.user2 : I will forever love this duo

@.Kb9news : reporting live to my favorite couple

[anotherspookyarchivist]

I haven't really written much fiction recently, but I've seen a few fun prompts here and there and I really wanted to try my hand at it. This is based on a prompt from @babyblankyerror which covers a what if regarding Stan's memory recovery. Fair warning, this is Part 1 out of ? - Just a little warm-up so to speak to set the actual scene.

--- The walk through the forest was quiet. It seemed like no one really knew what to say – and he, too, wasn’t sure how to break the current silence. Thus, they walked silently through the woods, leaving him solely with his thoughts.

He might not quite understand the situation, but he knew that he has the ability to read a room. Or at least that’s what he assumed this was. The air felt heavy, and yet he didn’t understand why everyone seemed so despondent. Especially, since he himself had woken up feeling accomplished… confused yet somehow at ease. A calm that had felt so welcoming and yet so strange. There had been no thoughts that were holding him down, just the feeling of the dirt underneath his knees; Something that had seemed to ground him. At least until the others had arrived.

He also didn’t understand why he had to switch clothes with the other man. He had heard the mutterings between the two children and the older man, as they noticed that he hadn’t even tried to tie the string-tie for the outfit. It seemed that this failure had caused them further distress, and while he didn’t know these people, he had this sudden urge to apologise for having failed. He pushed away that thought, the little girl had already sounded too desperate when he hadn’t responded to her calls of “Grunkle Stan”, and he was sure that saying anything else would probably just worsen the situation. So he had remained silent, and that’s why they’re walking silently through the woods.

He had taken note of the words they used for him:

Grunkle Stan, Stan, and Stanley.

None of them were familiar to him. He thought that just maybe, this group got the wrong guy, that there was someone else out there, who’d deserved the care of these people – and yet they were adamant to stay with him.

He thought about being Grunkle Stan, Stan, and Stanley. He wasn’t sure what that would entail. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be. What was a Grunkle Stan, Stan, and Stanley?

These people were strangers to him. It felt wrong to try and pretend otherwise, and yet, he felt like these people shouldn’t be this sad.

They kept walking through the woods. Then there were suddenly noises close by. He watched the older man take a step closer, now standing between the noise and him. For some reason, this felt wrong. He couldn’t yet name why, but he was sure that this should not be happening. He didn’t have time to further think about it, as from the woods emerged a large man. He wore a cap and a slightly worse for wear looking shirt with a question mark on it. The man was also holding a pig for some reason.

The large man didn’t seem to notice that these people were not in a good mood. The man seemed to smile at them as he exclaimed: “Mr. Pines! Other Mr. Pines, You Dudes, I am so glad to see that you are all ok.” The man was about to say more, but he must have noted something, as he put the pug to the ground and slowly moved his hand across his face. “You are all looking really sad, I thought that the whole reassembling of reality would mean we won?”

It was the little boy that took the initiative. He watched as the boy took a few steps toward the larger man and whispered something into the others’ ear. Even from behind the cover of the other man he was able to see the newest visitor’s face fall.

He wondered if this guy had known him too, if this was another one that knew him as Grunkle Stan, Stan or Stanley.

He still didn’t know these people, the larger man barely managed to look into his direction, but he joined the trek towards… He didn’t know where they were going.

He decided that he’d try to be Grunkle Stan, Stan, or Stanley for them. Even if he didn’t remember them, even if he wasn’t actually the guy they were looking for, he could try for them – It wasn’t like he knew about himself anyway, so trying to be someone else shouldn’t be too hard.

He hadn’t made the deliberate decision to lie to the children until he took a seat in a comfortable chair and had a clear look at everyone’s faces. He tried to play it off, be as honest as he could be – but their looks told him enough. The little girl’s attempt at jogging his memory gave him the perfect opportunity to play it up – and if he had to lie to make them happy, then that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

For some reason, this bit, selling the con, felt oddly familiar. He played it up, he laughed at the right spots, while trying to remember all this new information about Grunkle Stan, Stan, and Stanley.

After a while the children left with the larger man. They mentioned something about having to check on the town. Something about making sure that there were minimal damages to the shack, and something about how Grunkle Stan, Stan, Stanley – and Mr. Pines? Should be spending time with the other Mr. Pines.

Grunkle Stan, Stan, Stanley, and Mr. Pines was supposed to talk to a mysterious other Mr. Pines. He could guess that if he actually was supposed to be Mr. Pines, then the other Mr. Pines should be considered family. Since the only two people in the room was the older man from the forest and himself, that’d means that the guy must be other Mr. Pines.

The room wasn’t silent for long. “Stanley”, he heard the other Mr. Pines say, “I… I know you lied to them.”

Oh shit, Grunkle Stan, Stan, Stanley, or Mr. Pines was busted. He could feel his face heat up at being caught like this so quickly. He felt like he must be better at this, or it wouldn’t have been so instinctual to lie at all! Then again... maybe he could try and salvage it – admitting to it would only make it worse, best to try and salvage this as best as he could.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You saw it, the children saw it. I clearly remembered some.”

This little speech didn’t have the intended effect at all. The other Mr. Pines didn’t look relieved or happy at all. “For a moment I had thought it to be possible, but I’ve known you forever – and while it’s been a while, I do recognise your tell from our shared childhood.”

Shared childhood? That’s just not fair to use memories of things that he had no memories of against him.

Still in thought, he felt a hand grab his own. That… that felt different. It felt weird? No, not weird. It felt familiar. He heard the other Mr. Pines’ voice still talking about something, but he couldn’t focus on that. Instead, he just focused on the hand in his and how right it still felt. Right in a way that he hadn’t thought he’d ever experience again. Which made no sense. Hadn’t the other Mr. Pines manhandled him before? Had he just not noticed due to the many layers of clothing? It hadn’t felt like this.

This hand in his felt achingly familiar. He continued to look at it.

1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6

Huh.

It was weird seeing these scars on Sixer’s hands. They were also larger than he thought they should be. Hadn’t they just talked about how it was his job to take the risks? His brother wasn’t supposed to have that many scars, maybe some from something science-y. Certainly not from fights.

He blinked, suddenly realising that he had actually completely tuned whatever his brother had been saying; And who was now looking at him with visible worry.

“Sorry Ford, I didn’t mean to get distracted. It’s just…”, the hand in his hand suddenly seemed to clamp up. Wow, ok… That actually hurt more than he thought it would. Sixer was stronger than he remembered.

“Stanley?!”

Oh, and his brother still sounded sad. Wait, yeah, he had forgotten him and there was the whole emotional fallout from that. Duh, how could he not have thought about the impact these things would have on his brother.

They were inseparable, and there Stan went and accidentally lost his whole memory. Well, he didn’t actually remember how any of this even happened, but Sixer would know the details. Stanley couldn’t help but think that all of this was probably somehow his fault. Like that one time, where they had accidentally caught the ire of their neighbours. It was usually Stanley who would instigate schemes that would end up getting them in trouble.

Ford still looked so sad, he was leaning towards him, as if he was unsure if he should embrace him or not. Stanley thought he’d understood, they were apparently rather old already and hugs were something children did. He remembers them huddling up underneath their blanket on the lower bunk, Ford reading a book while Stan was holding the flashlight. He remembers Ford having slowly fallen asleep mid-reading and slumping against him. He remembers promising to himself to always be at his brother’s side and to protect him.

He also remembers nearly breaking the others glasses in his attempt at getting Ford more comfortable. He had dodged a bullet there.

Looking at Ford now, he couldn’t help the swell of emotions that he was feeling. He might not remember the now, but he remembers enough to know how to help his brother out. Hah! Take that, since childhood he knew how to comfort his brother.

So he did just that. His brother looked like he really needed it, so he got up from the chair to better hug his brother.

The other seemed shocked at first, his body stiff – and only after Stan put more pressure in the hug, did Ford begin to sack into him.

He heard the other mumble: “You actually remember me?”

Stan let out small laugh: “Poindexter, I will never truly forget you. How could I when you’re the best friend I’ve ever had?”

...Ok, he didn’t quite understand why Ford would stiffen up again after that. Why was his brother now trembling? What was going on? And yet, instead of focusing on that he decided to just hug his brother even harder, hoping that this time it’ll stick.

[cazort]

So like...I hate the anti-vax movement, but I also, frankly, find the idea of forced medical procedures to be a bit terrifying. I look at the history of medical interventions in Western Society and there are a long list of people being forcibly subjected to all sorts of medical procedures that were harmful, against their will, everything from unethical testing of products without consent, to harmful interventions during childbirth that threatened both mother and child, to doctors pressuring people to go on drugs that turned out to be unsafe.

I also think that it's totally valid for people to give pushback against something they feel forced to do.

I see anti-vax sentiment and vaccine mandates as going hand-in-hand. The stronger anti-vax sentiments get, the more the push for mandates. But the more the push for mandates, the more paranoid people get and the more resistance there gets to be.

We need to break this cycle. Things that break us out of it:

Sharing of personal accounts of people who have actually had illnesses. My parents? They are old enough that they both got measles and mumps as a kid. They knew people in the older generation who had permanent vision damage from measles. This knowledge is being lost.

Education about vaccine safety and risks.

Trust in science, and in society in general.

When you think about it like this, you realize that there are things that may be indirectly driving anti-vax sentiment.

The antagonistic, harsh "weed-out" mentality of some science teachers and professors that alienates people from science?

Corruption in the scientific establishment, and failure to root out things like publication bias, pro-big-pharma bias, and the like?

Alienation and social isolation in society as a whole? And the poor mental health that comes with it?

Yeah, these things are absolutely driving anti-vax sentiment. Not directly, but indirectly the effect is strong. The solution isn't to force people to get vaccines, that is never going to work. Society would never accept that and I don't think it would even be a good thing if people did. We need to include more people.

And think back to the left's general response to the pandemic. The left was all about pushing the social distancing, and there was very little cost-benefit analysis done. Yeah, people were talking about the potential lives lost due to spread of COVID. But no one was talking about the lives lost in the horrible aftermath of a society that has become unprecedentally isolated and thus paranoid and alienated. People are literally dying now because of it. People die of suicide. People die because of the far-right policies being pushed by Trump who largely rode into power due to mass alienation and paranoia which was, guess what, fueled by that pandemic isolation. People die because of anti-vax sentiment which also is fueled by this paranoia.

Did anyone weigh any of these deaths against the deaths prevented by those COVID precautions? No. I have literally never heard anyone make this analysis.

I want people to think about this stuff.

Our society, during the pandemic, became the most alienated, the most isolated, and the most paranoid that I have ever seen it during my entire life. And we haven't fully recovered. And it's absolutely driving anti-vax sentiment. We need to heal the social fabric if we are going to address the anti-vax issue. It is a symptom, not the root cause.

Fuck anti-vaxxers and their "freedom". Vaccines are not an individual choice. They're a public health matter, they require 95% of the population to be vaccinated to be most effective. People have the right to not be exposed to deadly pathogens just because some people are willfully ignorant.

We don't give people personal choice in the safety measures installed in their cars. We shouldn't give people the personal choice whether they're intentionally gonna put everyone around them at risk. Especially putting at risk the people who can't take vaccines for health reasons and are already more at risk.

[acowardinmordor]

while taking a short break from the absolutely insane deadline I'm trying to hit for this project that just got the rug pulled from under us, my brain was thinking about how much we love having Steve captured by people. Usually with Eddie bc unknown bat venom magic or whatnot.

Has anyone captured Steve and Dustin though? I'd normally jump to this post S3, where the russians have Dustin's name, and Steve is there too, but consider if it happens after S2.

Dustin is the loudest human on the planet. Says something or was recognized by someone lab-adjacent. They can't find El, but they know that this kid knows her, and look at him, its not like this child is going to be all that resilient to pressure. They grab Steve with him, as an accident more than anything else. Steve was taking Dustin to do errands, or something. Dustin took too long, Steve came to complain about the delay, Steve ends up in the back of the van too.

And these lab guys would, lets be honest, have killed Steve once they got back to their base bc what do they need this random guy for? Its the kid that knows about the girl.

However, the combination of Dustin never knowing when to shut up, Steve needing to protect Dustin, and the Lab Dudes being vaguely uncomfortable with actively hurting the kid... By the time they're back to wherever they're taken, Steve is the target, and he's actively encouraging it. He's never met El, but he has heard some stories in the last few weeks, enough to make it seem like he knows her. And hey, bonus! He can't actually tell them anything important about her because he doesn't know anything!

Dustin telling Steve to stop talking just ensures that the lab dudes think Steve has valuable information.

It's rough. Vaguely shaped like Steve and Robin with the Russians. And if he was protective of Robin? Yeah, no, there's no way he's going to let them hurt Dustin. he's only known the kid a month or so, but even when Dustin was essentially a stranger, he was down to risk his life for him.

Dustin isn't entirely left alone, but they're not really hurting him beyond incidental stuff. Kid is also smart enough to realize that he does know things they want to know, and that if he tells them, they'll find El, and have no use for Dustin or Steve at all anymore.

For the sake of a plot, lets say that there's a chance for an escape. Its been a month, they're being transported somewhere else, something something, Dustin gets out, and finds the closest cop he can, tells them to call the Hawkins PD, and put Hopper on the phone. He gets back home, and manages to tell El what to look for before Claudia wraps him in a hug and won't let him out of her sight. He can't even pretend he's upset about that btw. Yes, he's scared for Steve, but it was horrible and he's a child, and he's falling apart about it.

And again, plot armor. They're gonna find Steve. He's alive, they get him back. It's been at least another month though. Add in two weeks in a hospital, and two more weeks of recovery at Hopper's place, and... yeah, Steve's not graduating that year.

His parents, who assumed he'd run off with some money and his car since its not like he was going to get into college anyway, sorta wash their hands of him when he comes back. Its not like he can say that a group of G Men kidnapped him to find out what he knows about a little girl with psychic powers. He came back looking like a drug addict to be honest, and they can't be bothered. He's 18 already, so that's that. They're out.

Dustin would be - God. He'd be devastated by that part. Yes, by it taking so long to find Steve, by blaming himself for Steve getting taken too, for how long it will take Steve to recover, for Steve repeating his senior year, but Dustin Henderson finds out that Steve's parents were only back in Hawkins for a couple days to handle paperwork? That would be a gut punch.

I don't know how much he tells his mom, not everything about the monsters, but that the Lab was shady and they thought he and Steve knew something, and tells her that its his fault Steve got hurt, and that Steve kept him safe.

Obvs. That is now her brand new son, Steve Henderson.

And All THIS means that there's not really a fall from grace for 'king steve' He was bruised to hell at the end of Fall semester, and just didn't come back in the spring. Then there were rumors, then he was back, but not in school, and eventually, word went around that he was repeating.

By April, he's recovered enough to be applying for summer jobs. Not sure about Starcourt yet since I don't think I'm cruel enough to torture him twice, and maybe this requires a Steve With Powers situation, but all of this means that the start of the new school year creates an absolutely insane dynamic for Steve and Robin and Dustin and Eddie

[stars444hearts]

big reputation || 3

caitlin clark x actress!reader masterlist - prev - next warnings: none

When Y/n went to bed last night, she fell asleep with a huge smile adorning her features. Caitlin had somehow made her happier during one conversation than she had been in months. 

When Y/n woke up that morning, she was met with a flood of messages from Kate, all asking about her conversation with Caitlin. Y/n rolled her eyes as she sent Kate a half-assed response and put her phone down, deciding to make breakfast and finish below deck. 

Y/n had just plated her eggs and toast when she heard her phone begin to buzz. She rolled her eyes as she picked it up, groaning when she saw the caller ID. 

“Kate, what is it?” Y/n asked exasperatedly. 

“Wow, ok. Thought there would be a bit more appreciation for the girl who set you up, but whatever,” Kate replied. 

Y/n rolled her eyes again. “Thank you, Kate,” she snarked. “Why are you bugging me at 9 AM?”

Kate sighed. “I know you two just started talking yesterday, but Caitlin called me at three AM rambling about how much she liked talking to you, and I’m getting sick of it.”

Y/n laughed. “Hey, you’re the one that set us up, so that’s kinda on you.”

“Hey, don’t turn this on me, I was getting sick of listening to the both of you whine about how lonely you were,” Kate shot back. 

“Whatever,” Y/n rolled her eyes, continuing to eat her breakfast. 

“Y/n, you should come down to see me.”

“What?”

“You should come down to Iowa. I miss you and we haven’t hung out in literally forever,” Kate explained. 

“Yeah, because I’ve been filming. Contrary to popular belief I actually have a job,” Y/n sassed back. 

Kate scoffed. “Yeah, whatever. But I’m being serious. The next weekend you have off, you should come to Iowa. You can stay in my dorm.”

Y/n shrugged. “I mean, why not. I actually think I’m free in two weeks, so I could come down then,” she offered. 

Y/n quickly moved her phone away from her ear as Kate’s scream registered through the speaker. 

“Holy shit, you’re coming to Iowa!” Kate yelled into the phone. 

“Yeah, Kate! I’m not flying to the moon, jeez!” Y/n winced as she moved her phone to her other ear. 

Kate laughed on the other end. “Ok, whatever. I’ll see you in two weeks!”

Y/n laughed and hung up her phone. Holy shit, she was going to Iowa.

---

enews

129,019 likes

enews Actress Y/n L/n has been spotted at the Eastern Iowa Airport. Meet up with Y/n and women's basketball star and childhood best friend, Kate Martin, at the link in bio. 

---

yn_ln

Liked by caitlin_clark22, lanasoph, and 2,390,189 others

yn_ln why am i like a big basketballer now?? Tagged: @katemartin_03

katemartin_03 SHES D1 →yn_ln they should call me y/n money l/n instead →katemartin_03 don't push it.

katemartin_03 um creds?? →yn_ln whys this bitch always up in my comments?? →caitlin_clark22 guys kate’s getting FLAMED

lanasoph i already miss my filming buddy ☹️☹️ →yn_ln I'll be back in five days 🙄🙄

caitlin_clark22 shes plotting on my roster spot →yn_ln oh i’m plotting on something else 😏 (yn_ln has deleted this comment)

user1 Y/N BRO YOU AINT SLICK

user2 girl we all saw the comment don’t hide

---

Caitlin did you mean what you said in that comment??

Y/n BRO I DIDNT THINK PEOPLE WERE GONNA SEE IT Im acc so embarrassed this isnt funny

Caitlin Its payback For when you made fun of my celebrity crush on you

Y/n Ok, laugh it up, but if  there's another enews article written  about this, i’m gonna sue

Caitlin LMFAOO

Y/n NO ITS ACC NOT FUNNY I was literally just trying to get my dunkin refresher in the airport, and i hear a bunch of people calling my name. so, i go over, and they bombard me with pieces of paper and sharpies and cameras in my face asking what i’m doing in iowa and im like ‘trying to drink my refresher’ but nobody thought my joke was funny  so i had to lie and say it was for work 😐

Caitlin bro I’ll actually beat them up I swear

Y/n You dont have to do that 🙄 But i appreciate the sentiment

Caitlin Whatever you say, princess 🙄 but if this happens again and i just happen to be there,  i’m throwing punches.

Y/n My hero 😐🙄

[starmada4546]

The Derailing Trump Train

This essay is by-and-large for people like me who regularly have to deal with conservative family members or coworkers or whatever godawful thing makes you have to put up with these kinds of people. If that's not you, the advice in this one probably isn't going to be very helpful, but you're welcome to stick around for the analysis, if you like.

As the veneer of moderate, respectable conservatism slips away, people are going to start getting their buyers remorse. I've already heard people discussing how they aren't fond of Trump's policy on Ukraine, or his tariffs, or how Elon Musk is slashing federal jobs and giving himself multibillion dollar contracts. Its... highly frustrating to say the least. When I hear a very conservative uncle talking about how Trump's promised tax cuts don't include him, it makes me want to scream "How the fuck can you possibly be so selfish?! You people have had almost a decade to realize this man is a serious contender for Worst Human Alive and the only time you can start caring is when it impacts you?!"It really hurts to see a man who has spent the last decade fanning the flames of fascism, destroying lives, spreading bigotry, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, only lose his supporters after he starts hurting them specifically.

For those unfamiliar, there's a meme on the internet that many people like to quote in these sorts of situations. It goes something like "'But I didn't think the leopards would eat my face!' sobs woman who voted for the leopards eating people's faces party."

Since the original incident that started this meme, Leopards Ate My Face has become a term that refers to conservatives who voted for a conservative politician who proceeded to do something to hurt them, usually because said conservative voter didn't bother to figure out what said politician actually stood for. It's a popular meme for good reason; it's cathartic to laugh at the comeuppance of others, right?

I generally speaking disagree. This sort of thing drives me absolutely up the wall. It's selfish people finally getting hurt by their own selfishness, but in a vast majority of cases, those selfish people still won't accept they were ever actually in the wrong. It's always that they were lied to, or that the circumstances changed, or some other bullshit excuse that serves the same rhetorical purpose: I can't possibly have been wrong, so something outside my control intervened. This is, of course, demonstrating a key feature of the conservative mindset, which is the fundamental lack of self accountability. If there was any acknowledgement that everything that was going to happen was well known in advance, that political scholars and economists and journalists were Screaming From The Fucking Rooftops that this was going to happen, they'd have to acknowledge that there were steps they could have taken to have not caused harm for themselves, because in the fundamental selfish narcissism of conservative thought, the only thing that is immutably morally wrong is anything that hurts me.

If there was any acknowledgement that they could have done five minutes of research to keep from committing the most egregious of moral sins, doing something against their own interests, they'd have to accept that they bear the responsibility for that. So it is always, always, someone else's fault. Any evidence they could have used is dismissed out of hand; the news stations are lying, the economists are profiteering hacks, and the political scholars are propagandists.

But go far enough down the train tracks, they start running out of people to blame. When they're far enough out from the election that the opinions and writings of the fourth estate don't matter to them anymore, the republicans control all three branches of government, and most of what vestiges of leftism still exist in the government are seemingly hellbent on being the most ineffectual, pathetic doormats in the history of opposition parties, the list from the center of the Venn Diagram of "People who I think have the power to screw me over" and "People who I hate," starts growing dangerously short for their cognitive dissonance. It may not often seem like it, but there is a limit to how far these people can stretch and distort their own reality.

This is where we see the step of most groups built on ideologies of hate, supremacy, and/or exploitation wherein the members of the group begin to turn on each other, or at the least to begin their own balkanization. Remember, the very last person they can blame for their woes is themselves. They will blame anyone and everyone else, including their Der Fuhrer before they go that far. If they start running out of people to blame, they find new ones.

(This also mirrors a key feature of fascism, where when an outgroup can no longer be reasonably blamed for the problems of a society due to their absence or lack of cultural relevance, and are replaced with new outgroups, thereby making the ingroup smaller and smaller, but I'm sure that's only a coincidence, wink wink nudge nudge.)

So, after analyzing the toxic narcissism inherent to this worldview, I'm gonna go ahead and proceed to light myself on fire with napalm by defending it.

Ok ok, I'm not actually going to defend it. But I am going to ask for it to be encouraged?

This behavior is absolutely fucking terrible, don't get me wrong, but it is also self destructive, at least as far as cohesive fascist movements go. When they start pointing the blame fingers at each other, that is the death knell for fascism. Fascism exists because it's an ideology of hate, but it proliferates because it doesn't market itself that way. It markets itself as a series of benefits for the average everyman, which are obtained through bigotry. When those benefits don't materialize, which they can't, because bigotry has never served anyone but those who already hold all the power, it creates resentment and distrust. This is usually where the fascists point at something else and say "Look, a minority!" but that strategy only works for so long before it becomes put-up or shut-up.

So believe me, when that conservative uncle complains about Trump's tax cuts and you just want to go ballistic, I understand that sucks. But I urge you, smile and nod. It's a low bar at this point, but he's taking a second to think about it. Maybe it isn't going to get him to take his head out of the Kool-Aid fountain, but resentment and distrust don't start a violent boil overnight. In fact, we don't need a violent boil. We don't necessarily need for these people to start voting for democrats, we just need them to decide they'd rather not bother heading to the polls on election day. A small simmer is enough.

Because eventually, when Trump strips enough of the iron off of the track, the train derails.

In the wise and seemingly eternal words of Sun Tzu, "Never interrupt your enemy while he is making a mistake."